Hinge Pin
by Centroides
Summary: This is a end of war scenario that came out of 'Her Ship Came in'. How can one man's hot appendix cause so much trouble and can they survive?
1. Chapter 1

**Hinge Pin**

Chapter 1

Almost Over

Captain Garrison was tired and looking forward to his leave. For two whole weeks he was going to do as he pleased with the people he cared most about, his family. Not that he did not care about his men, but there was no doing as he pleased when they were about. As the only responsible one he could never just relax. In a few days he would be on route to the United States and peace. The war was over and the six months would be soon too. After at least a week of doing nothing he would start to consider what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. There were hints of a promotion and a training position at one of the US bases. There were new Government Agencies opening that would want people with his background. He had enjoyed the challenge during the war plus the necessity of the work but did he want to keep doing this? Working alone would only escalate the risks since his team who had saved him many times was headed back to their civilian lives. Each had been assigned a Parole Officer and had accommodations set up. As much as he would want to continue working with them he could not ask them to give up their civilian lives. It was all they had talked about for the last six months and as the end got closer the talk had escalated. Could he ask them to give up this hard won freedom? They had worked for it, had earned it and deserved a chance to live it; as long as they didn't screw it up.

He headed to the bedroom where he had slept for so long. He looked around the large room with the ornate woodwork, the large windows, the canopy bed with curtains, the rug, the fireplace and he thought about his own bedroom back at his parents' house. His room was less than half the size, the bed was a twin rather than this double, the window, a quarter the size yet he couldn't wait to be there. It was not that he did not like it here, it certainly was preferable to some of the places he had slept, bombed out buildings, attics, fields and even a tree; though how Chief managed that he would never understand. This was very nice but it was where he bunked, the other back in his parents' place was home.

Actor closed the book, a leather bound first edition, with the reverence it deserved. It was a classic and he was pleased he was able to finish it before they were to leave. He leaned his head back and reviewed the story with its suspense, romance and wonderful settings and how faithfully the author had described them. Some of these places he was familiar with, others were places he would someday travel to and see for himself.

The saddest part was the description of parts of Italy where he had not been before the war. It sounded beautiful yet when they had been there the place was in ruins. Casino had been bombed and the historic Abbey destroyed. Like the Phoenix would they rise from the ashes? Could this destruction be erased? In a hundred, or two hundred years would the people look at the buildings and say 'these are bullet holes from the last great war'. He hoped he would live long enough to see it happen.

As the con man sat there relaxed with eyes closed he wondered what his future held in store for him. According to Craig they would probably be returning on the Queen Mary, a luxury ocean liner that had been converted to a troop carrier at the beginning of the war. Back in the United States each man had been assigned to a Parole Officer. Because they did not want them associating with each other they had been separated. He had requested Manhattan.

A room had been reserved for him in a, heaven forbid, a rooming house eight blocks away from his Parole Office. Actor the greatest con man in Europe was to live in a common rooming house. Oh how the mighty had fallen; from a palace to a rooming house. It is, he thought, a step up from prison. Craig must have seen the look of disgust or was it horror on his face because he explained that his Parole Officer required an address before he could be accepted so the Army had paid his first month's rent. Where he went from there was up to him and his Parole Officer.' Just keep it legal' was what he had been told. Yes he would keep it legal. He had worked long and hard to get this it was not make sense to throw it all away now.

He could feel sleep curling around the edges of his consciousness and unless he wanted to be caught napping in his chair he had better get up. He opened his eyes and sat up. This was his favorite room, the library filled with shelves of books. There were sections of fiction including America's Ernest Hemingway's books such as For Whom the Bell Tolls and England's James Hilton. Actor had spent wonderful hours hiding from the horrors of war in Shangri-La and with living with Mr. Chips. He had been disappointed that there were few Italian books but the French novels had pleased him.

He carefully replaced the book he had just finished reading and inhaled the scent that he was going to miss. The scent of a good library, the leather covers, the bindings, the smell of peace and quiet, the spell of adventure without the actual pain of injuries. Here you could swashbuckler with the best of them then go down to a proper English garden and have your tea. With his gypsy life he had never been able to accumulate a library. He was going to miss this.

The other thing he was going to miss was working with Garrison. He had heard, overheard really, the conversations he had had with strangers. He was being offered some position but he did not think it was with the Army. From the lost-in-thought looks he had seen the man was considering these offers.

With the war over there was no reason for him to remain in the Military. What were these other positions? Where would they take him? Was this to be more of the same, the intrigue, the plotting, and the cons? He was very good at this line. Spies were always needed even in peacetime or was he tired of the plotting, the scheming, and the cons? Where would he go? Actor had enjoyed working with him. He was good at the planning, the con and he definitely could think on his feet, all good traits in a con man.

If he turned his back on all this, where would he go? He tried to picture him somewhere else. Business man? He could be a salesman with his gift for the con but would he be happy? And Doctor did not fit. Maybe a lawyer. He had a mind like a steel trap, he was smart. He could do that as long as it was challenging.

And what about the others? He had enjoyed working with them. From such a diverse group had come all the requirements for a crack covert team. They had been good; their record had to put them at or near the top. He had tried to find out but no one would talk. It was worth a try.

It was a shame to break them up but one of the conditions of their parole was no contact with known felons. That meant they had to separate. They could contact Craig and he could relay but that was as close as they could keep contact. Too bad, he was going to miss them, each one of them.

On one of their trips to Italy Casino had found a set of bocce balls and had smuggled them home. Actor had been surprised that he knew the game but he had said it was a neighborhood favorite. From there it had taken some doing to convince Harold, the Estate Gardener, and a stubborn man, to allow them to play on the grass. It was funny to hear him grumble every time he walked past and they were out there playing.

It was later that he had found out that Chief had made the difference. He had found out that Harold was on a darts team. They were not accepting new members; they were an exclusive team, so after demonstrating his prowess he promised not to compete against their team if Harold left them alone. The word went out and though he had had a hand in its creation, Chief rarely played. He would watch on occasion.

Chief was an interesting man. He was quiet but he was not hard to read. All he wanted was to be accepted. He did not want to be the center of attention, just included. With his acceptance he had opened up and had taken part in their off-time adventures contributing to their fun. He was serious and a thinker but not above joining in, somewhat like himself.

He could not remember how it had started but somewhere along they had started on a theme.

"That was a tree't."

"Yeah, if you hadn't made an ash of yourself."

"Let's branch out to something else."

"You cannot leaf it yet."

"I wood if I could." Even Craig had joined in with Goniff and Casino.

"Leaf it be."

"If we had time we could twig this conversation into something better."

"I pine for better roommates."

"Cone't you do any better than that?"

"You're barking up the wrong tree."

"Yer not board are you?"

"There's a grain of truth in that."

"Must be a poplar subject."

"Shall I spruce it up for you?"

Up until then Chief had remained quiet, just watching the interplay. Finally as it died down he said, "You're all nut, pine nuts."

He looked a little embarrassed at the laughs he got from that. Yes the man was a thinker. He watched and he listened and he learned. He was going to miss seeing, with a little encouragement, how far he could go.

Life without Goniff was going to be dull. The man was a natural morale booster. His optimistic outlook had saved them many times when the realities of their job became too heavy. He usually involved Casino which tended to escalate the hi-jinx but even alone he could lift their spirits with a prank or even an anecdote or two. The man was fun personified.

Yes, in three days when their time was done he was going to miss being part of this group. He sighed and headed to the kitchen. Dinner should be ready soon.

Goniff looked around the room. Though he had spent longer stretches elsewhere this room seemed to hold more memories than anywhere else. Over there the leg of the cot was bent from the knock down brawl between Casino and Chief. Over on the side wall there was a dent where he had thrown a cup at Casino and missed. Casino had ducked. Down at the end the line they had strung to hang their laundry was empty. Someone was going to have to take that down tomorrow. At least Casino had driven the nails in the other side of the wall so you could not see them easily. Goniff wondered if the Army was going to hire someone to come in and fix all the damage they had done. It was not like they had done stuff on purpose just to damage it. They had to have somewhere to hang their laundry to dry and the wall? Accidents happen. Besides cooping up four healthy men for nigh on two years meant you had to expect something. They were not angels. Come to think of it, it was two years. Happy anniversary, you get to go home. Yeah.

It would be good to go home and see his Mum again. This time they would make it work. He would get a real job so he could help out. Mum had had a hard enough time keeping body and soul together with what she made at the news stand; he couldn't blame her for the book. You did what you had to do to survive. This time he would go straight and she would not have to worry about him. No more court dates, bail money, visits to jail…

Going home. Just a few days on a boat and though he cringed at the thought of being at sea, he knew that a few days being sea sick was worth it to be home, back in America and free. He finished folding the last of his laundry and headed for the door. Wonder what's for tea, I mean dinner.

Casino clutched the letter in his hands. Home, he was going home in three days. It was going to be so good to see the family again. He had been concerned how he was going to stay out of trouble and take back his place as the boss of the neighborhood. Mama had written that Rayman Ribeiro had taken over when he was arrested. Casino hated him; he reminded him of a rat and he was not the kind to just hand over the reins of power. This last letter had cleared that. She had told him that Rayman had been shamed into enlisting by the elder generation. She had even gotten in that her son was over fighting even though he had told her not to. Seems he had been wounded and recovered but died on his way back to the front. The way was clear for him to return.

His Mama was going to be disappointed that he had not had a chance to visit her birthplace. He had tried to explain that Spain was not involved in the fighting but she insisted that he was that close he could make the trip. Poor Mama, she had wanted to visit her parent's graves but they never had the money for the trip. He was supposed to do it for her. Too late now. Besides he had had enough of graves. He wanted life. His oldest sister had a baby boy now, born the day his father had died. Enough death, let's have life.

He shrugged as he looked around the salon. On the walls were portraits of people who were probably, from the looks of the clothes, long dead. He walked to the window and looked out. The gardens were beautiful but they weren't Brooklyn.

He couldn't wait to be going home. This time he was going legit. He knew it was wrong but somehow it had seemed not so bad to disappoint his parents when he had gotten into trouble again. Now he knew that he would not, could not disappoint Garrison. He was not the forgiving parent who loved him no matter what he did. He was the boss who would not hesitate to put him through the wringer if he messed this up. And besides there were the other guys to consider. They were not going to mess up so neither was he. Casino would not bring disgrace to the name of Garrison's Gorillas. He would do them proud.

Chief sat on the railing overlooking the courtyard. Funny how the most unlikely places could be the best. This rich guy's mansion had been just another place to squat when he had arrived. Now it was filled with memories, good memories of the guys and Garrison. They had all sat right down there on the bottom of the steps. Out there under the trees the four of them had lazed out of sight of the Sargent Major. Without looking he pictured the window where they had sawn through the bars to create their own escape route. They had all been surprised when they found out that Garrison knew about it and said nothing. He was like no screw he had ever known. Garrison was probably the first person in authority who didn't treat him like dirt. Guess that was why he respected him. He'd never respected anyone before even guys like the prison boss who could make his life good or hell. He respected Garrison.

Respect was not the only reason he tried to do as the guy asked. Long time ago they had wondered why he was still a Lieutenant. Casino suggested that it was because they were cons. Actor said that did not make sense but privately Chief had wondered if being put in charge of them and their foul-ups was a punishment for something. Maybe if he helped him and stayed out of trouble then it might help get him his promotion. Maybe it worked because he was a Captain now. Maybe he would get another promotion and finish the war as a Major. General Garrison had a nice ring to it.

He was saddened to be losing his best friends. They had stood with him through it all; never turning their backs on him even when he messed up. That was true friendship, not like in prison where your friend today sold you out tomorrow for a pack of cigarettes. Actor had answered his questions without looking down on him. Funny how that had started. There was not a chance in hell he would ask but Actor must have guessed and he had explained. It was the tone he used like he was talking to a friend and not to an ignorant piece of dirt. Actor never looked down on him. Even when he asked a question that turned out to be stupid he had just answered it like always. He had come to depend on him.

Casino was like a brother. They fought each other but he could count on him to watch his back and jump in to help even if he didn't want him to. He was a good guy to have on your team just like Goniff. He snorted at the thought. No one else would get away with calling him Chiefy. What a name, Chiefy, but he couldn't get mad at him. This was Goniff, the guy who taught him to have fun.

No, this time he was going straight. He had a reason to do it this time. Garrison had a parole officer lined up for him. He would be living in a rooming house in Queens. He had never been there but that didn't matter. If Garrison thought it was all right then he would go. He had also lined up three places that could use a mechanic. He would do this. No one knew him there so he would be starting fresh and Garrison said he would help him if he needed it. He was confident.

The biggest reason was that they had talked about all getting together when their parole was done. If Goniff could stay out of trouble so could he and if one of them did, it would not be him.

Captain Garrison received the call to go to London. Was this his promotion? Maybe he was to pick up their final travel documents and confirmation of their ocean passage. Finally it was over. They were going home.

Captain Craig Garrison hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket and his hat. He strode down the hall and poked his head into the kitchen.

"Go ahead and start without me. I have to go to London."

"Just keep in mind, Warden," said Casino, "no matter how high they promote you, we're still not going to salute you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied.

"Make sure I get a window seat," insisted Goniff brightly.

"What? I thought we were going on a ship?" said Casino unsure whether to believe Goniff.

Don't wait up and don't leave."

"Come on, Warden. Our last night. We gotta go say good bye to the regulars."

"Stay here." He glared at the two worst offenders.

"'Ey, you make it sound like we 'ave a mission. It's all over and we're going 'ome in a day or two."

They saw the look and said no more. Craig did not believe they would stay but he hoped that they would be back by the time he returned. Hopefully that would not give them enough time to get into trouble. One last shot. "If you leave and get into trouble you remain. I will not bail you out and the ship sails without you and your parole."

The smiles disappeared. He heard Goniff whisper as he left, "What's eating the Warden? You don't think…" He continued on his way and drove into London.

Captain Garrison drove back to their base. He knew not to get his hopes up. It was stupid but he felt disappointed and annoyed and worried. He was going to have to break the news to his men and they were not going to like it. Why was he worried about this? He knew his men. He knew they were loyal. All he had to tell them was the other option Johns had given him. Still he had a bad feeling about this.

When he pulled up to the building the sense of dread built. There were no lights showing but that was normal. The blackout curtains were still used. Inside was total darkness as well. Anger started to grow. They took off even when he told them not to. He had more than half a mind to tell the guards about the window and stop them from returning. Damn them. He headed for his office.

He pushed open his door and the light exploded, blinding him.

"Major Garrison!" yelled five voices. Then an English voice started and was joined in a rousing, "For he's a Jolly Good Fellow."

Craig was stunned. And Angry. And disappointed. The others must have seen the look on his face because the singing petered out and stopped.

"They wouldn't," exclaimed a shocked cultured voice.

"Bloody 'ell," said another.

"They can't do that! It's too late. We're done!"

Garrison said nothing. All the emotions and words were the same ones that he had thought but was too good a soldier to express. He waited for a minute then went and sat on the edge of the mission table. The projector and screen had been stored but this time he did not need them. He took out the photographs from his attaché case and placed them on the table and the case on the floor.

His men, who he had led, who had protected his back, who mostly followed his orders stood looking at him in stunned silence until Chief broke ranks followed closely by Actor. Casino shook his head and he and Goniff proceeded to their chairs. It was a sullen group that sat waiting.

"This mission was originally planned for another team but as of," he glanced at his watch, "twenty minutes ago Major Carter was taken into surgery. He is expected to recover but cannot lead his team."

"I take it he is necessary?" asked Actor.

"Yes."

"Wait just one minute," said Casino. "**Major** Carter? Why's he a Major and you're not? You've been in the fighting since the beginning. You tell them that you'll do it but you want the promotion. You were supposed to get it, why not now?"

Craig was not going to get into the reason for the rank disparity but he was pleased that no one suggested he lead the other team and leave them there. That had been the first plan but he had said he wanted his own men. He knew them and trusted them. The other men were unknowns.

"There's no time for that, Casino. We have to be at the airfield in half an hour."

"Are you going to brief us here or in the air?"

"The war's over why do we have to jump?"

Craig picked up the photographs and passed them to Actor who was closest. "This is Signore Pellitteri and we don't. He was a minor government official who claims he has information on Nazi collaborators but will only give it if he is granted immunity from prosecution."

"So we go steal it."

"Our job is to go in, meet with him, talk to others and find out what he is hiding from and…"

"Then we steal it."

"Get your gear. Let's go. One last mission and we all go home."

"Don't," said Casino with deadly calm. None of the other cons moved either.

Garrison stood looking at them. They weren't going to refuse to go, this close to the end were they?

"It's bad luck to talk like that just before you're to be released," said Chief quietly.

"More guys die in their last weeks than any other time," said Goniff in the same reverent tone.

"Let's just go." Craig hoped he had broken the spell these men were under. He was not superstitious but if they believed…

No more was said on the trip to the airfield or even in the air. He knew they were not worried about the mission. They were old hands at this sort of thing. After two years they had it down to a science so it was the jinx that they were worried about. He did not know how to take their minds off it until the first air pocket. It was small but it was enough to elicit a gasp from Casino. Goniff who was white knuckled himself could not help the laugh.

"It's all right Casino. We've been in worse." Then it got worse.

"'ey Casino, wanna jump?"

If he could get his fingers off the armrest Casino might have agreed.

By the time the pilot had escaped the turbulence they were all hanging on for dear life and Actor was silently reciting the rosary. Even Garrison had been unsure if they would land safely. The flight had just evened out when the pilot signaled that they would begin their descent. There were a few bumps but they finally landed. Around them one of the other three passengers suggested he was going to kiss the ground. No one scoffed.

From the airport the five men took the car that had been provided to Sesto Fiorentino. From there they headed north. Just over a kilometer later they passed a large building surrounded by a high stone wall. They continued on to the first place Chief could turn around and they retraced their steps back past and to the next place they could pull off the road.

Garrison and Actor set out toward the house and Casino and Goniff headed up hill to circle around the back. Chief put up the hood and loosened the distributor wire. If anyone came by he would just fume and point to the engine.

Casino and Goniff returned ten minutes after the other two but their reports were the same. The place was surrounded by the stone wall which was breech-able. Casino had done just that and had checked for a security system and found no sign. He did find a large pile of dog shit. They had to assume there were dogs patrolling at least at night.

The next step was to locate the source of the rumors of theft that had the Signore asking for immunity. Chief offered to stay and watch but Garrison declined. He did not want them split up just yet. This time Garrison drove back to the city where he had been provided with a safe house.

It was more a cottage but it would do as a base. Actor and Garrison went to talk to their contact. The others were to stay put but it was a fine day. The temperature was only in the fifties but the sun was shining and the sky was clear so they sat outside, smoked and talked about when they got home. Goniff was to stay with his Mom in New York City. Casino's family had been all too happy to have him home. They each talked about their families. Finally Goniff asked Chief about his plans. He explained that Garrison had got him a room at a boarding house and job interviews as a mechanic. That brought fresh stories about the crazy landlady that ran those places or the sex starved landlady. Both had them smiling though Chief preferred the crazy one. He had no desire to be hounded by a half dressed older woman who just wanted his body.

Hours later Garrison returned. Actor had remained in town. He had a friend there and hoped to gather more information as the evening wore on.

"A skirt?" asked Goniff, nudging Casino in the ribs.

Garrison ignored him so Casino laughed. "Of course a skirt." They then took to talking about Actor and his women. Casino suggested how he would get the information. Garrison was not surprised at their imaginations. They were not virgins and they did subscribe to 'kiss and tell'.

As evening descended Actor returned looking very relaxed. He had confirmation Signore Pellitteri had been involved in many art and jewelry thefts. They did not have proof but he seemed to have a lot more money than anyone else and he had been on good terms with the occupiers. It was time to have a look in his safe.

Once it was dark they climbed into the car again and headed for the fortified house. This time they were going in. That was the thought until they arrived. The place was packed. The sloping drive was filled with cars and it looked like every light in the place was on. It was too dangerous; they would get caught so they turned around and returned to their cottage with its two beds and a couch.

Next morning five grumpy men assembled for breakfast. They had to do it today.

"If there is any consolation, the Signore will be hung over and easier to con," suggested Actor.

"Let's hope."

This time when they arrived the place was quiet. The three inside men had been dropped off around the bend and would make their way on foot, scaling the wall at the rear and entering the back way.

Garrison rang the bell and they both heard the ferocious barking from inside. That was not good news. The other three needed to be able to move about the house to find the safe. When the door opened they saw an older man peer around the edge. Actor told him they were there to see Signore Pellitteri. The door opened and they were ushered in. The older man led them to a large sitting room as the man of the house came down the stairs.

"Signore," said Actor. "I have a request. My companion is uncomfortable with dogs."

"Not to worry," he said jovially. "I have locked them upstairs." He turned to his companion. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Could you put them in the cellar? I was once attacked by a dog that escaped from an upstairs room. I would feel more comfortable with them beneath me."

"How be I put them outside then they are…"

"No," he said anxiously. "I don't want to feel trapped in here," he smiled hoping to mollify his host, "as nice as it is in here." Seeing him hesitate he said, "I cannot relax if they are not in the cellar." He stepped back looking very uncomfortable.

That did the trick. Their host agreed and Garrison, playing the con said he would step outside so he did not have to see them and Actor remained so he knew it had been done. Garrison's appearance was the signal for the others to enter.

By the time Garrison was invited back in Actor had flattered their host with compliments on his choice of dogs and his fine home. The Signore took it from there and suggested he show them the grounds. It was cool for wandering around outside but it meant there were fewer ears in the house. They went.

Their host led them farther up the hillside so they could survey his domain.

"This is an incredible estate. You own all this?" and he spread his arms to encompass the orchards and vineyards. "How did you manage to keep the Germans from taking it and all the furnishings inside?"

"I knew they would take it if they saw it so as soon as they showed in the area I offered to let them use it. I pretended…"

"You tricked them," said Actor with admiration. "And when they left you moved back in. Ben fatto, eccellente."

"Thank you." He smiled then he turned angry. "Those fools in town do not understand. They think I worked for the Nazi. They call me a traitor. They don't understand," and his face eased, "not like you. You understand. You have to do what you can to survive. Besides if the Germans had won they still would think I was on their side and they would reward me so I could not lose. Right?"

Actor mentaly held his nose and agreed. They had gone along with them but they needed proof that he had actually aided the enmy. Hopefully that would be in the safe.

"Let's go back and we will have some of my very own wine and talk business."

They had only taken a few steps when the building bulged with a muffled boom then exploded blowing the sides off the one end of the building collapsing the roof and filling the air with dust and debris.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A Desperate Search

One scream and two gasps later and three men ran toward the smoking ruins. They were all devastated but for different reasons.

"Mia casa. Che ha fatto questo? Chi ha fatto questo a cassa mia?

Actor and Garrison scanned the wreckage for signs of life. There was plenty of time for the others to get inside but they doubted they had time to find, open and check the contents. They were most likely buried somewhere in the debris. They had to find their bodies and take them home somehow. After all they had gone through they could not leave them. To make matters worse Pellitteri started wading through the debris, lifting boards, pushing stones aside. He was searching, as they wanted to search.

Garrison saw something brown that looked like a sleeve. Casino was wearing brown. He carefully stepped closer but the Italian traitor was too close. He would see him if it was Casino.

Actor had waded into the debris ten feet over so Garrison called to him. "There's nothing here but rubble. Can the Signore help you over there?"

Actor understood. "Yes, please. Give me a hand. I think there might be some items over here that you might want. Help me lift this." The owner obliged. Garrison positioned himself so his body was between the Italians and the arm.

"Casino?" he whispered. There was no response so he began to uncover the arm. It twitched then began pulling the rest of his body out. Casino was alive. With Garrison's help he sat up swaying slightly from a blow to the head if the blood flowing down the side of his head was any indication. Garrison took off his jacket, wadded it and pressed it to the site of the injury.

The home owner saw the commotion and came stumbling over welding a board. Before he had a chance to swing it Garrison intercepted him.

"No."

"He did this. He destroyed my home. I'll kill him."

"Look at him. If he wanted to destroy your home he would have made sure he out of the blast. This man, look how he is dressed. He's a peasant looking for a job or some food. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Look at him. He doesn't know what the hell happened." It was true. Casino sat there stunned, just staring out at the wreckage.

The irate owner relaxed. He accepted that he was looking at an innocent man.

"Tell him to go away, there's nothing for him here." He turned and began searching again.

Moments later Goniff was found. He was not as lucky. When Garrison moved the board from his leg, the injured man cried out. His knee was bloody and twisted in way that made Garrison's stomach clench. His leg was badly broken and needed to be tended immediately.

"I found another beggar. Must be his friend, only he's hurt worse." The fear in his voice drew Actor to his side. Between them they extracted the second injured man.

"Why don't you take those two to a Doctor and I'll help our friend to salvage what we can," suggested Actor. They both scanned the immediate area hoping Chief was there too and alive but there was no sign of another body, living or not. They loaded the two patients in their car and Garrison drove to town after asking directions to the nearest medic. The compassionate home owner's suggestion that he drop them off down the road was ignored.

For the rest of the day Actor helped find and retrieve what he could for Pellitteri. There was not a lot left intact in that part of the building so when his neighbor arrived to inquire about the blast he asked him if he could borrow his truck. Between the three of them they began loading everything they could from the rest of the house and took it to another place he owned. It was dirty heavy work but at least Actor could keep an eye out for Chief. His body had to be here somewhere. They had crawled over all the debris and found no sign. He had to be buried deeper and dead. No one could have that much fall on them and survive.

Garrison found the Hospital and led Casino inside. Fortunately with the war over and the Allies victorious there were many Americans in Italy so he did not have to worry about a cover if he spoke English. He led a second Doctor out to the car where they had managed to put Goniff and he ordered a stretcher and two orderlies to bring him inside. Both men were hustled away.

Garrison sat in the waiting room with an elderly man who was worried about his wife. She had had a heart attack. Sitting idle was not something Captain Garrison was good at. With nothing to do he worried. Would Goniff lose his leg? It looked bad and the look on the Doctor's face when he saw it was not encouraging. What about Casino? Was he just dazed by the explosion or was there more to it? A blow like what ever had cut his head could cause brain damage. Would he recover or was he going to be simple for the rest of his life? Here you go. Here's your son. No, That's all he does, sit and stare. Sorry about your son. At least he's alive.

That brought another heart ache. Chief. He was most likely dead. And who would care. There was no next of kin in his file. He never received any mail or wrote any. He had mentioned someone named Gouyen but said she was dead now. How sad to end up dying on the last mission and there was no one who cared other than his team mates and if Casino remained addled and Goniff ended up dying… Chief was around thirty years old and the only people who cared about him were four strangers he met during the war. How sad.

A doctor appeared and informed the elderly man that his wife was going to be all right. He was all smiles as he hurried after the Doctor. Would luck smile on him too?

That was when Goniff's statement about prisoners dying just before they were released struck home. Was that what was going to happen? Was one of them to die or had he already? Was Chief already dead? Damn, he hated this waiting. He hated being here, sitting in a hospital waiting room, being in Italy, being in the Army, being in charge of men he cared about and watching them die. He stood and strode to the door then stopped and returned. Casino and Goniff needed him. Instead of sitting he headed in the direction he had seen Casino go and almost ran into the Doctor. He motioned for Garrison to follow him.

Casino was sitting on an examination table. His shirt had been removed and he was wearing a hospital gown. His pants were still on. The Doctor started explaining about the head wound and the need for X-rays to determine if there was a skull fracture. Casino did look somewhat more with it now but he was watching them intently. That was when the Doctor dropped the other shoe.

The effects of the blast and possible the damage to the skull had caused total deafness. No wonder he looked confused, he was deaf. If it was from the shock of the blast he would probably recover with time but there was more. Casino was suffering from a perforated eardrum on the one side. This might heal on its own or it might require surgery.

"What's he saying?" shouted Casino.

Garrison held up his hands in a 'just relax, it will be all right' motion as the Doctor grabbed a pen and paper. He wrote something and handed it to the patient. Casino took the paper and squinted at it.

"I can't read this. What is it? What's it say?"

Garrison mimed an explosion and something hitting him in the head.

"What? What's this?" and he repeated the mimed explosion.

Garrison realized he did not remember the explosion. Taking the paper he drew a house with a stick figure beside it. He pointed to Casino and then the figure. Casino indicated he understood. The Garrison added a bomb.

"They bombed the building?" Garrison nodded. "And that's why I can't hear?" Again a nod.

"Will it get better?" he asked the Doctor who could do nothing but shrug. It might or it might not.

"Damn." That expressed what they were all thinking. "What about the others?"

Garrison told the Doctor that he had brought another man in and could he find out his condition. He was a blonde man with an injured leg. As soon as the medic had left Garrison put his finger to his lips. There was no telling whether the Doctor was friends with the traitor. Best to play it safe. He did let him know that Chief was missing and presumed dead.

The news was not good in regards to Goniff. They had taken him into surgery and from the looks of it he was going to be there for a while. His leg was badly mangled. Garrison relayed the information to Casino who indicated he wanted to go help find Chief but he did not want to leave the Englishman. Garrison decided for him. Stay and rest. He would return with news later today or tomorrow.

Garrison returned to the ruined house as the sun was setting. Actor was still surreptitiously looking for a body as he helped with the salvage operation but he was tiring.

"I think you have everything. The rest is ruined. Besides it is getting cold and dark."

"There are still things that I haven't found. Papers that …"

"We can come back tomorrow after it is light."

"Maybe you are right. Come we go to my other house for the night."

"You go ahead. We have taken rooms in town. Shall we pick you up in the morning?" asked Garrison.

"No. We will meet you here at eight." With that the neighbor headed home and the traitor got into the vehicle and drove off.

They had about twenty minutes to call and look before darkness was complete. Even the moon and stars were obscured. They finally surrendered but Garrison would not leave.

Day two dawned cold and dreary with a threat of rain. The owner of the house arrived with two young men and they continued the search. The two Allies made out like they had just arrived rather than admit that other than a trip into the Hospital by Actor to check on the others, they had spent the night there.

The only place not thoroughly search was the basement though why Chief would be there they did not know. The only possible reason was that the explosion ruptured the floor and he dropped through and then the building fell on top of him. It meant he was dead since even if he survived the drop the rest of the building falling on him would have killed him for sure. Still they did not want anyone else to find the body so when anyone started looking too deep one of the Allies would steer them off.

"Signore," called out one of the young men. "Che cosa è questo?"

There was something in his tone that brought both Garrison and Actor over to see.

"Don't touch it. It's a bomb," said Garrison.

"Che?"

"Una bomba," translated Actor.

"Una bomba," squeeled the almost victim as he crab walked backwards away from the incendiary devise. He got to his feet and headed for the vehicle. He was finished searching. The other was made of sterner stuff but he stood waiting to see what was going to happen first.

"Can you disarm it?" asked the host.

'No," was Garrison's reply. He might be able to but he hoped its presence might scare off he searchers so they would leave.

"Those men did this. They left this here didn't they. I'll kill them myself." The owner was still looking for someone to blame.

"Signore Pellitteri," started Garrison. "This is a German booby trap. I have seen them before. You said the Nazi lived here until the Americans came and then they left."

Pellitteri nodded.

"They may have taken their troops with them but they left this and probably the one that blew up your house. The Nazi's did this, not those two drifters."

"But why would they do this? Herr Klein said I was a good German friend. He would not do this."

"There it is," he said as he gestured to the bomb. "There's your proof that they lied to you. They booby-trapped the place and they left. They wanted you to die."

"No. They said all this was for me, that I had earned it. They took the money and papers. They said they needed them to get them home but the land and the furniture and the wine, it was all mine. Why would they do that and them bomb it. That's not right." He looked around at the devastation like a child looks at his broken toys. "It's not fair. How am I to lead the people? They won't respect me if I live," and his voice became hard, "in that hovel that is fit only for servants."

Actor was tired and dirty. He had not wanted to go on this mission to begin with and then the horror of almost losing his friends and the knowledge that one of their own was buried here with no one to mourn him and this man was worried about his prestige. He felt his anger building.

"Signore." Garrison stepped forward. As angry as he was at the man's self-centered tirade he could see Actor slipping. The con man was a bastion of control, a rock but he knew if he ever did let go that the fall out would be extensive and right now Actor was about to commit murder.

"You mean you can be stopped by this? Signore Pellitteri, the great statesman, was stopped by blowing up his house. He was uninjured but he gave up, never to lead the people because of a little bomb. Sad, isn't it."

"But where will I entertain?" he asked pitifully.

"Who will you entertain?" asked Actor coldly. "Your German friends are all gone. You said the people here consider you a traitor. Best you move somewhere else." Actor's tone said 'slink away you rat'.

"Yes," he said brightening. "I will go where they do not know me. That is what I will do." He looked to the truck with the rest of his belongings and the two Allies dared to hope he was leaving.

He did not. Instead he pulled a bottle of wine and some glasses from the truck and he began to pour, handing the glasses out. Actor and Garrison wanted to refuse so he would leave. They did not want to drink with this man, this spoiled traitor. They wanted to get on with the gruesome task of digging down in the debris until they found their friend and then take his body home. They also realized that he would not leave until the bottle was empty so the sooner it was empty the faster they got what they wanted. They each accepted a glass.

"I had a lot of good times in this house." He held up his glass in salute then took a drink. "The parties, the women…" He smiled at the memories. "I think I had a woman in each of the bedrooms, except the Master bedroom. That was reserved for the General."

"I thought this was your house?" ask Garrison not really interested.

"It is now."

"How did you get it?" Now Actor was interested. Information was always valuable.

"I work for the government. When the owner died in 1937 I made it look like he own money, a lot of money. The children had to sell the property and I bought it cheap." He looked very pleased with himself. "Then I fixed the records." He was positively glowing and it was not from the cold breeze or from the wine.

The two men's eyes met. They were thinking the same thing. 'Bastard.'

It was getting dark by the time he climbed into the truck, said, 'Arrivederci', 'Good bye' and left.

The last two men turned to their task, heading to the area where the entrance to the cellar had been.

Day three smiled on them with weak sunshine and milder temperatures. As soon as it was light enough to see the two were up and searching. The top area had been searched so they started digging deeper, moving boards and small beams.

"Craig? It's time."

"No, it's not. I'm not giving up. He deserves better than this," and he gestured to the rubble. "For all he has done and gone through, he deserves to have a decent funeral and I'll be damned if I'm…"

"I meant, to go to the Hospital. Casino will be waiting."

"Oh." He deflated. "Yeah." He stood holding the board he had grabbed and looked out over the devastation, shoulders slumped. It was a daunting task to find a body in all this rubble and thankless. Chief was dead and no one waited back in the US for his remains. As sad as that was he would not give up. He would continue to look until he found him.

Actor drove into the city and to the Hospital. First stop was the Doctor's Office where he hoped to find some good news about Goniff. Foolish as it was, having seen the man's leg, he still had to hope.

Next stop was Goniff's ward. He spotted Casino at the entrance to the ward, leaning on the wall. He looked miserable. He almost called to him but caught himself in time. Instead he approached, swinging wide so he did not startle him by suddenly appearing at his side.

The haggard look on the safecracker's face was almost expected after hearing the Doctor's report. He had saved the leg but there was a lot of damage to the joint. Goniff, the agile second story man, was now crippled.

"He's in pain. They keep…" Seeing Actor put his finger to his lips he lowered his voice. He shook his head in frustration. "They keep giving him stuff but it's not working. It's pure hell to stand in there and watch him begging." His voice, filled with agony, was rising again.

Actor put his hand on Casino's shoulder in sympathy as he looked him in the eye. He released his grasp and walked into the ward. Maybe Casino's deafness was a blessing. This was a surgical ward and several of the patients, most likely soldiers, were awake and in pain. He found Goniff's bed and moved up beside him. Mercifully he was asleep. He checked his chart and saw that he had a shot of morphine ten minutes ago and would not have one for four hours. Casino had time to get away if he wanted.

Actor left the room and took Casino with him. He found a quiet spot, wrote out his options and handed the note to Casino. He read it and reached out to take the pencil before laughing bitterly. He was about to write his reply on the paper.

"I don't know. I want to help find Chief but Goniff needs me. When he came out of surgery he kept asking me something, begging. The poor guys gotta be terrified, and in pain. I wanna be here when he wakes up." Actor nodded his acceptance but Casino wasn't through. "But I gotta help look for Chief.

"Damn Garrison for taking this. He shoulda said No." His voice was rising with his anger. "He could a lost his leg or his life." Seeing Actor's gesture he lowered his voice a bit but continued. "I don't care who hears me. He almost killed the guy." It suddenly dawned on him. "HE KILLED CHIEF! Damn him. The kid worshipped him and he killed him! If he were here right now I'd f…," he saw the nurse, "I'd," he dropped his voice, "I'd kill'm." He was too angry to care that she turned in fear and looked at him. He had not dropped his voice enough and she had heard him.

Actor said nothing. He understood. A part of him wanted to agree. Goniff was badly injured and might still lose his leg. Chief had looked up to the Officer, was it worship? and he was presumed dead.

Actor also understood Command structure. A Captain did not tell his superiors no. He did not refuse an order if he wished to remain in the Army or leave on good terms. A charge of insubordination or a Dishonorable Discharge would follow him for the rest of his life. There was also the fact that Garrison could not possibly know that the retreating Germans had booby trapped the building. It was not his fault.

Would he ever be able to convince Garrison of that? If he did not then the guilt would be just as bad as the Dishonorable Discharge, just not visible on paper. He needed Casino on his side to make that happen. Right now he was not sure how he was going to do that. Writing everything down was going to be long and tedious.

"So where is he anyway?" He was calming down.

Actor gestured over his shoulder, mimed pulling things up and looking underneath.

Casino snorted. "He's still there looking." He saw Actor's nod. "And it's not because he didn't want to face me or see Goniff?" Actor smiled at that and Casino could not help his own. "Guess he feels bad enough about the kid without me taking his head off?" He did not need to see the conman's reaction to know he was right. It was true. Garrison cared about all his men. He was just angry, but it was like he had told Actor. He looked toward the ward where his friend slept and then saw the look on Actor's face, saw the dirt, the exhaustion. He had to help. "If I come can I come back here for when he wakes up? He should be out for an hour or two?"

The conman smiled and nodded. Casino had spouting off as usual. He was a passionate man, scared for his friend and for himself. Being deaf had to be frightening. He also cared for Chief. The relationship he had with each was different but he cared for both. He gestured to Casino and himself then in Goniff's direction. They would both be here for when he awoke. With that settled, the two men returned to the scene of the devastation.

The scene was like the one he had left except there was the top half of a man planted near the back. He turned to watch them approach after tossing a rock clear of the foundation. Actor made his way as close as he could then lifted the bottle of wine.

"Come, wash some of the dust down. We will take over." Seeing the wrong response, he leaned down to grab another board. "Warden! You will do him no good if you collapse. Now, stop and take a break." His command tone got through because he stood and threw the piece of stone he had in his hand then climbed up and made his way to them. He was exhausted. In spite of the cool temperatures his face was streaked with sweat and his hands were raw where he had been tearing at the rocks and plaster debris.

Casino picked his way to where the officer had been digging. As good a place as any, he thought. He crouched down to see better, noting the space that led deeper. Taking off his jacket he started to force his way in. If he could see down there he could tell if they were on the right track or should try somewhere else. As he maneuvered his body through the spaces he felt his pant leg catch on something and rip as he pulled himself farther into the concrete and rubble jungle. Nothing. There was no sign of life. He had to go back but in his eagerness to look he had not thought about how to get back. He simply reversed direction but his feet came to a dead end. He could not see behind him to see which way he was to go. Without thinking he hollered then remembered. You're deaf, stupid. You can't hear them. He swore in frustration. The Doctor said it might get better and it might not. He said the damage to the one side was worse, maybe permanent. Here he was stuck in the rubble and deaf. He wanted to hit something but he was stuck. He felt as close to crying as he had since he was a little boy.

He felt a tug on his foot and almost kicked in anger. Don't bother… He felt it again a little stronger. They were guiding him out. Relief. He could do this. The guys would help him. He moved in the suggested direction and was soon clear.

"I went as far as I could but nothing." He shook his head in frustration. He tried again in another direction. Being smaller than the other two he was able to wriggle in smaller places. The two bigger men worked to open an area and he climbed down to check. After a while he began to feel like a rat crawling through the underworld.

Finally Garrison said it was time to go back to the hospital.

"There's just down there to look. Doesn't look like it goes far. I'll just have a look then we'll go." This time he lowered himself feet first then ducked under the beam. It was a short crawl until he came to the end. He looked around and thought he saw something; a rat, a real one. Those things would chew your fingers off. He backed up fast and bumped into a beam causing it to shift pinning him.

"Hey. I'm stuck. You gotta help me move this." All he could do was hope they heard him. He tried again. "Hey. I'm gonna try to shift this thing. Give me a hand." He took a deep breath and pushed up on the beam with his shoulders. It was heavy but he could move it a bit. The problem was that he could lift it but then he could not move out from under while he was holding it. He lowered the beam then lifted it again. As he lowered it he felt it move. They had it. He pulled himself free and turned to look at the gap that had been opened. There was a boot. Could it be?

He reached in hoping whoever was holding the beam did not let go. Up the boot he felt. Yes, there was a leg in that boot. He tried nudging the leg hoping for a response. It was silly but he couldn't help it. At least he had found Chief's body.

"I got'm. He's here." He began retracing his path. As he finally found the entrance he stood and said, "I found Chief's body. We're going to have to do some digging. All I could reach was his boot."

"Show us where."

Casino mentally followed the path he had taken. "Where was the beam you moved?"

Actor led them to the place and Casino eyed the board. "There. He has to be about where that piece of picture frame is."

They moved in and looked but it was completely blocked by a section of wall. They would have to dig beside and tunnel to him.

Between the three of them they heaved and pulled and lifted and tossed until they had a space cleared next to where they thought the body was. Casino went down in the hole and started pulling debris out in an attempt to tunnel. When he came to the large chunk of wall he was stopped. He backed out of the tunnel to allow Garrison to try. He dragged a chunk of two by four which he hoped to use as a lever or a brace. Garrison made his way as far as he could. Placing the lever in as far as he could he pushed. The blockage moved.

"I see it. Just give me a minute." Actor saw the beam that moved. If he could lift it from this end it would help. This was going to work. Squatting down in place he put both hands under the beam.

"When I lift, put something under to hold it." He heard the acknowledgement so he heaved and held as long as he could before lowering it. It did not go back down as far as he had lifted. It was working.

"I see'm. Do it again." The voice was muffled but encouraged.

He shifted his footing, took a deep breath and heaved again. Again it did not go as far down.

"That's getting it. Once more."

Actor shifted his position again placing both arms under the beam. He took another deep breath and heaved.

Down in the hole Garrison had a piece of wood positioned to push into place. He was lying on his back looking intently at the place where the gap was opening when suddenly the plaster sheet that they were tunneling under cracked under the strain showering everything below with dust, dirt and crumbling plaster. Garrison tried to close his eyes to the debris and turn his head but he was not fast enough and the pain as his lids closed on the grit was blinding. Shocked by the pain he lay still as Actor heaved some more.

Casino saw the shower from his position farther back but was helpless to do anything. He waited and when he did not see his leader move he panicked.

"Warden!" He probably did not have to yell that loud but with no feedback and rising panic he was loud enough for Actor to hear.

Straining at his limits he was startled by the panic in the yell and he shifted. This moved his foot that was braced and he slid. The beam twisted and fell trapping his one arm against a rock. The pain seared down his arm from his upper arm to his wrist stunning him. With his free arm he tried to free himself but could not.

Casino, oblivious to the scene above crawled to his leader. In spite of wanting to kill him earlier he was now desperate to see if he was all right. As he got closer he saw Garrison's arms move up to his face. From the amount of dirt on his face and the closed eyes he knew what had happened. He started pulled the injured man back out of the hole.

Once he was clear Casino knew he needed water. Where was the well? There had to be a well near here. As he pulled Garrison from the hole he yelled to Actor to get water, that Garrison had dirt I his eyes.

Angry that Actor had not appeared with water he spun around ready to blast him. That was when he saw the sight that drained the anger and most of the blood from him. Actor was crouched over awkwardly pushing at the beam. There were muted Italian curses between pushes.

He did not want to upset Garrison who now had enough to worry about so he said, "Just sit right here. I'll see about something to flush your eyes." He then hurried over to the tall Italian.

"It caught my arm," was all he had time for before Casino grabbed the beam and heaved with all he was worth. Actor pulled his arm clear and sat back cradling it to his chest.

"Is it broken?" he asked watching intently for any indication.

Garrison heard the inquiry and stood intending to make his way over to the voices. With eyes tightly closed he could not see the rough terrain he was to traverse. He did well for a few steps but then his foot failed to find the ground and he tumbled into one of the excavations they had dug. He had the sensation of falling then it was over. There was nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

More Bad News

Actor heard the commotion and when he suddenly looked over so did Casino. The safecracker was confused by what he saw then realized that the problem was what he did not see. Garrison!

Again he made his way back as fast as he could, finding the crumpled figure as he rounded a half wall. Not stopping to contemplate he jumped into the hole and made for his friends head. Was he alive? Not daring to move him he felt for the pulse and thankfully found it. He was alive so he hollered the good news not bothering to look to see if the Italian had made his way over. Crawling over this mess would not do a broken arm any good but he would want to know anyway.

"Warden?" He had to be all right, thought the safecracker. He was tough. He couldn't be killed this close to the end like… No don't think about that, he told himself before he started to choke. NOT YOU TOO! You are going to live, dammit.

"Warden?" he called again.

"How is he?" asked Actor from above. He knew Casino could not hear him but he had to ask.

"We need some water," yelled Casino and Actor disappeared.

Actor stood uneasily. His arm was numb; he felt nothing from his upper arm down. He tried to make a fist and failed. Nothing had moved. That frightened him. Pain was better than this. This meant his arm was dead but right now he had someone else to think about. Still cradling his arm he scanned the area looking for some source of water. They had been inside the entrance when they arrived but that was as far as they had gotten. Where was the kitchen? Surely there was water there. Moving toward the still standing portion of the house he examined the exposed rooms. There were two bedrooms upstairs; one still had a bed in it. Downstairs was a salon and maybe a dining room. Was the kitchen beyond that? He hurried to the side so he could go around. It was too risky to enter that portion; it was too unstable.

Sure enough, when he came around the end there was an addition on the back. This was the kitchen. It took no time to find a pitcher and fill it. He returned with a towel that he had found as well.

Casino sat contemplating the horror. What if he died? Could Actor get them home? The Army would believe them that it was an accident, wouldn't they? How would that be for a kick in the ass? They survive this long, do as they were told then the Warden gets killed and they pin it on them and they go back to jail. It was just too much and he let out an agonizing groan.

Actor managed to climb back to where their fallen leader was being tended without spilling too much. Carefully he handed Casino the jug and towel. The safecracker poured water on the towel and started wiping the unconscious man's face. Fuck it, he thought and poured a trickle on his eyes. Maybe it would be better to flush out the grit while he was unconscious.

It seemed to take forever but Garrison finally groaned and lifted his hands to his face.

"Don't rub your eyes. You got grit in'm. Just blink lots. Here, I'll pour some water on'm. No, don't rub 'em." He had to block his hands from reaching his face. "Captain Garrison, Ten hut!" He had meant to get his attention. It did but the command meant he was to stand. When his body went into motion in an attempt to obey, his head came up and banged into the metal pitcher Casino was holding. The resulting collision got his attention away from his eyes and on to his head.

The pain in Garrison's head got the most of his attention and his hand went there but when he tried to open his eyes they burned. When he tried to wipe them his hand was pushed away adding confusion to his various hurts.

"Warden?"

He knew that voice.

"Don't rub your eyes. You've got grit in them. If you can hear me, nod. Good. If you rub them you'll scratch your eyeballs. You don't want to do that. You still with me? Good. Do you hurt anywhere other than your eyes? And your head?"

Garrison took stock and came up with 'all over' but that was for him only. He was lying awkwardly, on his left side. There were things jabbing into his side, thigh and his arm but they were not life threatening unless he was bleeding and that he could not tell.

"Warden? Can you move your arms and legs?

"Flush his eye while he is laying there."

Another familiar voice.

"Warden? I'm going to pour water over your eyes. Try to blink so we can get some of the grit out. You ready?"

The procedure was painful and of dubious success. His eyes still burned and now his face and hair were wet and cold. The attempt to dry him was only partly successful.

"Warden? Just lay still. I'm going to wrap this around your eyes to protect them. You ready?"

Garrison heard material being ripped then he lifted his head as a soft material was tied around his head covering his eyes.

"Now give me your hand and I'll help get you up. Ready?"

"Where am I?"

"You fell into one of the holes we excavated."

That was the second voice; that was Actor who answered. The first voice was Casino. It was comforting to know who was there but why were they excavating? He held out his hand which was tightly gripped. A hand on his arm supported and steadied him as he tried to get his feet under him. It was difficult because his feet kept hitting obstructions as he tried to position them. Finally he was able to push himself up until he was standing. Even without his eyes the world tilted and he almost fell. A hand on each arm held him steady.

It took a moment before he was able to move and then forever to get to the edge and up. Not having any idea what he was doing was frustrating and frightening. Without the two men he trusted there was no way he would have managed. They lead him over the jumble and then told him to sit. He was very glad to sit but he desperately wanted to see where the hell he was.

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

What did he remember? It was all a jumble. Go back. "We were to meet with Signore Pellitteri, at his house… It… it blew up. A bomb. Casino," he looked to where he had last heard his voice, "you're all right, and Goniff?" Anxiety was causing his voice to rise. "Where's Goniff? Where is he?"

"We took him to the hospital."

"Yes, the hospital." It was coming back. Actor, Pellitteri and himself were outside when the house exploded. They had found the others and taken them… "What about Chief?" he asked with dread.

"We found his body but we have not gotten him out yet."

"We have to get him out," he said as he stood.

"No. We are going to get you to the hospital to have a Doctor look at your eyes."

"Right after we get Chief. Where is he?"

A hand gripped his arm. "Chief isn't going anywhere but the longer you delay the greater the chance you will become permanently blind. We will return once you have been treated."

The hand on his arm was joined by one on his other arm and they were insistent. He gave in and went along to the car. After he was seated he felt the car settle as the other two got in. The engine started and they were under way. As he sat his thoughts were as jumbled as the terrain he had fallen in and as dark as his present vision. Goniff was injured. His leg looked real bad, a million dollar wound. They were going to have to work without him. Would he be all right? And Casino; hopefully his hearing would return. They would have to adapt to a working team of… Chief was dead. Damn. Involuntarily his eyes flinched and the pain burned through his thoughts. Blind. He might be blind. His mind screamed at the thought. His future became as bright as his vision. As Pellitteri had blamed Casino for blowing up his house Craig now blamed him for blinding him and destroying his future. He survived the whole damn war only to be blinded by that self-centered bastard.

Only they would not be working together any more. The war was over but what now? Casino was deaf and might remain so for the rest of his life. What kind of job was he going to get when he got back home? He couldn't even go back to his former occupation. He could not hear the tumblers. Would he end up a homeless drifter begging on the streets? That was unacceptable for the man who had worked so hard, worked through his fear of airplanes, done everything that was asked of him. He had grumbled and complained but he had done what was asked of him.

At least he could walk. Garrison had seen Goniff's leg. Broken legs could be set and usually healed but this injury involved his knee. It had been bent sideways. The guy who had had a permanent smile on his face was going to live the rest of his life in agony. What if it did not heal right and the Doctors had to amputate? What would happen to him then? What kind of job could a one legged man get that would pay enough to support him? Heaven knows he couldn't go back to being a pick pocket or a second story man. Where would he end up? On the street with Casino?

His spirits sank as he thought about the youngest member of his team, Chief. The man had struggled all his life and now he was finally turning it around. He had found friends who cared about him. He had learned to read and write and to speak proper English. Actor had even taught him how to act like a gentleman. He looked very good in the suit that Actor had bought for him. He was nothing like the uneducated convict he had started with.

Now he was dead. Garrison had so looked forward to seeing him back in the civilian population with a job, a wife and maybe even a family. He could almost see the grin of satisfaction and the pride he would have shown in his accomplishments. Instead he was buried under a ton of rubble without even a marker to show where he rested. Eventually the site would be bull dozed and cleared to prepare for rebuilding. He had to get back there and bring his body home. Even if he had to pay for it himself he was going to see that he was buried in a cemetery with a gravestone with his real name on it.

His stomach had been complaining and was getting tired of being ignored. It rebelled.

"Stop the car."

"What is it?"

"Stop it now!"

Casino felt the hand on his arm, saw the gesture to the side so he pulled over and stopped.

Garrison worked the door handle and heaved, barely clearing the running board before his stomach succeeded in emptying.

Finally convinced that there was nothing more the spasms stopped and he sat panting.

"Sorry, Warden." Casino had come around and stood waiting to help if necessary. "But we haven't got anything to rinse your mouth."

It took the Officer two tries but he found Casino's arm and gave it a squeeze. He would understand. He then wiped his mouth on his sleeve and climbed back into the car.

When they reached the Hospital the Doctor took one look at the three men. One had already been diagnosed with a perforated eardrum. Now another was blindfolded and the third was clutching his arm to his chest. He knew the war was over so what were these men doing that they were being injured two at a time? He was not about to ask. Instead he instructed the one in the blindfold to proceed to the examination room.

An hour later Garrison was sitting in the waiting room. When the Doctor had finished explaining about detached retinas and concussions he was exhausted and just wanted to lie down and sleep but he could not. He had returned to the waiting room where Casino had led him to a chair.

"Let's go. I want to check on Goniff then we've got to go back."

"We have to wait for Actor."

"Actor? Where is he?"

"He hurt his arm when he was lifting that beam. He shouldn't be long."

Both men sat impatiently.

Finally quiet footsteps told Garrison that the conman had returned.

"What did the Doctor say?"

"He said it was probably temporary." The tone was matter-of-fact but Craig knew him well enough to hear the lie. It was worse than what he was saying but there was no point in fighting him on this. They needed to check on Goniff.

The Englishman was out of surgery but he was so medicated that they doubted he would remember that they had been there. The Doctor had no news for them. They had done what they could but he was going to be crippled. This was not a day for good news.

"We have to go back."

"No. You need to rest. We will go to the," he almost said safe house then changed it, "cottage. It is getting late. We will go tomorrow when we are rested."

"No. I can't leave his body like that. What about scavengers? It's just wrong to leave his body out there alone. I have to be there even if it's just to sit vigil over his body. I need to be there."

Actor was tired and dispirited. The Doctor had said the damage was probably permanent. He had lost all feeling. He could still control his elbow but that was all. With the damage to the nerves the arm would atrophy. He would be disfigured. It might even have to be amputated. A one armed man. Useless, imperfect. His future was melting before his eyes.

Not only his future was dissolving but so were the futures of the others. The only one whose was not dissolving was Chief because his was already gone. The manner of his death was tragic. He had worked so hard and then, boom, it was all over. There would not be a medal, a memorial service, nothing to commemorate a live given. What was Garrison going to with the body? Would the Army let him ship him home? Actor was sure that was what he wanted. He did not have access to cash right now but there had to be a way to force the Military to do as Craig wanted. Right now he needed a purpose and this was it. He would make sure Chief's body was retrieved and shipped home. Hopefully they could accompany him.

The two men assisted Garrison to the car and they returned to the ruined building. As soon as the car stopped rather abruptly, Casino jumped out and yelled. Actor quickly followed. Unable to follow Garrison stood by the car listening to the raised voices.

"Get out of here. Beat it. Vamoose."

"Give me that," followed by Italian cursing.

Flesh met flesh with considerable force and someone cried out. The blind man was desperate to know what was going on but he did not want to distract his men or bring notice to himself. He would be a perfect hostage. He waited anxiously until he heard footsteps approach. He took a defensive position.

"It's all right, Warden," panted Casino. "A couple of looters. We got rid of them but they got Chief's boots."

"I'll get him some new ones."

"He seemed to go barefoot a lot. He might like that if we left them bare." He snorted a laugh. "There was this one time in the winter we needed wood for the fire. He went out in bare feet to get it. Said it was invigorating. I didn't even know he knew that word. Guess there was more to the kid then we'll ever know."

Casino thought how it was going to be without him. He sure was going to miss the kid. He was annoying as hell, scrappy, tough and just like a brother to him. Why the hell had he gone out into the hall? Because he told him to, that's why. If he had stayed in the room then he might have survived. Damn.

"I'm sorry, kid." Casino was unaware he had said that loud enough for anyone to hear his confession.

Garrison sat, miserably, as he listened to the other two. Actor was clearly frustrated. He had taken to cursing in Italian, knowing that Casino could not hear him and knowing that though Garrison understood the words he would understand the reason.

Finally it sounded like they were getting close.

"All right, grab his shoulders and pull. No! Stop! His hand is caught. Dammit!" There was a crash as someone tripped and fell against the rubble. More swearing.

"Now, try again but don't tip him. Easy now." There were shuffling steps approaching as they fumbled over the debris with their burden.

"We got him free."

Garrison held out his hand and said, "Where is he? Lead me to him. I want to feel him." A gentle hand took his arm and led him several steps then tugged down. He squatted and reached out. He felt the rough texture of the coat he had been wearing, made rougher by the dirt and grit that had fallen on him. He felt along and came to his hand. It was cold.

"Oh Chief," was all he whispered as his throat closed and his eyes watered. What a waste, a senseless, senseless waste. He traced back in the other direction back up his arm to his shoulder and to his face. If he could have seen then he would have stared into his face memorizing the details that he would never see again but without that he used his hand to feel the straight forehead, the thick eye brows, and the jaw line. He was so young. He had lost men before; Wade had died in his arms, but this seemed even more personal. The young man looked up to him like a son. He let out an anguished sigh as his hand rested on his chest.

"Not yet, give me another minute." He had felt motion and thought they were taking him away.

"What's that, Warden?" asked Actor from several feet away.

"Where's Casino?"

"He is here with me, do you need him? The voice approached.

"No. I thought you were taking him."

He felt it again. He moved, his chest moved. He was positive.

"Actor? Will you check his jugular? I need to be sure."

"He could not have survived that," answered the con man gently.

Garrison said nothing because he heard the rustle as Actor stepped closer.

"There is nothiii…"

"What?" demanded the Officer. "What's wrong?"

"Oh my God," whispered Actor.

"What?" he demanded even more strongly.

"He has a pulse."

"You sure?" Dare he believe? Was he alive?

"What's going on?" yelled Casino. "What are you doing?"

"Here, give me your hand. Here."

"What are you…? You want me to prove to you that he'ssss…"

You feel that?"

"That can't be." he whispered incredulously." He's alive?" His voice rose in pitch and volume. "Warden? You hear that? He's alive." He shook his head in disbelief. "The kid survived after all."

"We have to get him warm. He's cold." The Officer started pulling off his jacket.

"Let's get'm in the car. We gotta get'm to the Hospital." Casino was so excited that his friend was alive that he could not sit still. He stood up and started firing off orders. "Actor, go start the car and I'll drag'm over. Wait right there, Warden, I'll be back to get you. Just sit right there."

The trip back into town was hairier than the last time as Casino pushed the car to its limit. Garrison even banged his head on the side of the vehicle when Casino had to make a fast course correction.

This time when the Doctor saw them coming he said, "Are you back again? What is it this time? Or should I say, who is it?"

Chief was put on a gurney and whisked away leaving the three men to sit in the waiting room again.

"Warden," said Actor softly. "I do hate to be a wet blanket but we should consider the possibility that he has suffered brain damage from the blast or that being pinned under the rubble for this long might have a lasting effect on his ability to reason. He might remain in a coma for a long time."

"I know," said Craig. "It's just he had no hope and now he does. Or maybe that should be, we had no hope and now we do. There's no guarantee, I know that but we have to have hope."

It seemed to take forever before the Doctor returned. He looked tired and sad. It was not good news.

"Your friend is in a coma. He is dehydrated, mal nourished, suffering from hypothermia, has multiple contusions and assorted fractures. We won't know about brain damage until he regains consciousness. That might be tonight, it might be never. We have no way of knowing."

"May we see him?" asked Actor.

"Hey Doc, Nod if he's gonna be all right and shake for no," said Casino.

The Doctor looked unsure so Actor stepped in and nodded, saying 'yes' then shook his head and saying 'no'. He then held up his hands and made a 'little of this, a little of that' gesture. It embarrassed him that his one hand did not work but he knew he had to do something to help Casino understand. He would not have done it for anyone else.

Recognition twisted his face. For all their fights, he cared for the Indian.

"You may see him in half an hour but one at a time. He needs rest."

The half hour dragged as each envisioned the life of a brain damaged Chief. Where would he go? Would they keep him here in the hospital? They had each heard of places where they put that sort of person and none of them were happy stories. Casino was unsure of his own future and knew that unless his own hearing returned he could not look after the Indian. Garrison and Actor had similar thoughts. Garrison knew he would get a pension because of his injury but knew it would be barely enough to live on and certainly not enough to pay for someone to look after a brain damaged adult. What would happen to him? In each of their hearts they wondered if he would have been better off dead' a terrible thing to think of for your friend but under the circumstances…

The three men went down to see Goniff. He was awake but heavily medicated.

"Hello Goniff. How are you feeling?" asked Actor.

"Mikey, ol' mate. I knew you'd come. Poor ol' Mum's probably worried. Tell 'er that it's a bogus charge and the coppers will never make it stick. I'll be out in time for tea. You tell 'er will you mate?

"Sure, Goniff."

Actor checked his chart much to the annoyance of the nurse who came along to check on her patients. She informed him in no uncertain terms that that was for the Doctor only.

He smiled a genuine smile and informed her that 'someone should learn how to spell' as he handed the board to her.

Her confidence slipped marginally and she looked at the chart as she placed it back at the end of the bed. She moved off in a huff to the next patient.

Garrison turned his head in the direction of the voice and lifted his chin slightly, inquiring.

"No, but I enjoyed the result."

The Officer could not help the twitch of his lips. Ever the con man. "What did it say? Anything?"

"Damage to his knee, torn tendons, ligaments. Surgery has stabilized the joint but the prognosis, because the extent of the damage is not good. As you can guess, he is being heavily medicated for the pain."

Poor Goniff. This was going to be a severe test of his optimism. They were going to have to help him all they could.

Finally it was time to go see Chief. They said good bye to Goniff after he asked Randy to take care of that cop who kicked his knee, saying it hurt like a bugger.

Back in the waiting room they got the nod from the nurse and taking his arm Actor led Garrison to the indicated ward. The Italian stepped back to give him some privacy.

Garrison touched the bed and reached out to touch his fallen team member.

"How does he look?" he asked quietly not having heard Actor step back.

Fortunately Actor heard the voice but not the words; they were spoken so softly. He moved in closer and asked him to repeat the question. He then took a closer look at the man lying so still on the bed. He looked badly injured, like he was dying or even worse. The nurses had removed his clothes and he was covered to his mid chest with a sheet and blanket. The skin on his face, chest and arms was pale where it was not blotched with black and purple bruises or angry red scrapes. His chest was bruised and the conman had no doubt that his ribs were among some of the fractures. He relayed what he saw to his leader even though he knew Garrison would feel each and every ache and pain. He also told him about the IV with multiple bags hanging beside the bed. What he did not tell him about was the torn fingers and the dirt that the nursing staff had been unable to clean from under his ragged nails. He had been conscious for some of the time and had tried to dig himself out. That was too heartbreaking to even think about what he had gone through while they were up above him thinking he was dead and that there was no urgency.

Overall it did not look like Chief was out of the woods yet. They had gotten him out of the rubble, the Doctors had done what they could, now it was up to Chief. He was a fighter but this was a lot to overcome.

After a minute Actor took Garrison back and led Casino into see him after motioning him for silence.

Garrison wanted to stay but Actor, the voice of reason, insisted that they all needed sleep. They could return in the morning. Having eaten nothing all day and hardly anything in the past three or four days they also needed to eat.

Back in the car it was Actor's instinct to take over. As the only one capable of seeing and hearing it was up to him but he was not just a con man, he was a human being. He knew Craig was the one in charge, he was the leader. Being blinded forced him to give up command, not something he did easily. Actor would help.

"Warden? Shall I stop and get food along the way? We need a good meal?"

So lost was he in his dark thoughts that he was startled to hear his nickname. Not fully paying attention he grunted an acknowledgement before he realized what Actor was doing. He wanted to snap at him to do what he was supposed to do as his second in command while he was injured. Fortunately his better judgment overrode and he said, "That sounds good." Even to himself he sounded a little churlish.

He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry Actor." He was unsure how to explain but was saved the trouble.

"I understand, Craig. We are all tired and worried. We will stick together and look after each other, even Chief. You have shaped us into a team that cares for each other. We will not forget." At that point the car swerved as Actor pointed out a grocery store.

Garrison refused so the other two men went in and made their purchases with the money Craig gave him.

Back at the cottage Garrison reported in with the details of their mission and was told to wait for transport. Meanwhile they spent their days at the hospital sitting with Chief and Goniff. Craig had his eyes flushed and checked. His concussion was easing but his headaches continued. The strain he was under worrying about his men did not help. Actor did what he could but it was a stressful time.

Chief went from immobility to bouts of frantic motion though he did not reach consciousness. It looked like he was replaying his struggle to escape. It was during a time he was sitting with him that a nurse arrived to bath him. She asked him to leave but he said he wanted to sit here, he had nowhere to go. Besides he couldn't see so no one would be embarrassed. She considered this then relented.

At first all he heard was the rustle of sheets and the splash of water as she wrung out the cloth. He heard the swish of her starched uniform as she moved about. Then the rustling became sporadically louder.

"It is all right, you are fine."

"Is he awake? Chief?" Craig stood anxiously and shuffled to where he thought the bed was. He reached out and touched the fevered skin of his team mate. His hand was batted away.

"It's all right now, Chief. You're safe. You're in the hospital." The motion stopped. Could he hear him? "The nurse wants to wash you now. It'll make you feel better." The cloth was wrung out but as soon as she tried to use it the motion began again. He was fighting her touch.

"Is he awake? Are his eyes open?" he asked softly.

"His eyes are open but I do not think he is aware." She paused then said, "Can you get... No. Will you stay here with him while I get the doctor?"

"Yes, I'll stay with him."

Chief was sedated and washed. Maybe tomorrow he would come out of the coma and know where he was.

He did not awaken. Each time he was touched he fought. At times even the sheet was rejected, thrown and pushed aside.

The following morning when they arrived the bed was empty. Each man's heart lurched. He had not died. He had come to and had panicked. He had been sedated and moved to a secure psychiatric facility. Chief had come out of the coma but was brain damaged just as the Doctor had predicted.

Still in shock the three men went to visit Goniff. He was improving. His medication had been reduced so he now knew where he was and who was visiting him. He also was in a great deal of pain. When Garrison talked to his doctor later that afternoon he was told that he could be moved and when transport was arranged that he could be shipped back to England with his companions.

Chief was to be confined and no they could not visit him until the Doctors could stabilize him.

Transport was arranged, Goniff was scheduled to be discharged and they were ready to go home.

"We can't leave him here," said Casino wistfully.

"He doesn't even speak the language. How is he going to know what they want him to do?" said Goniff.

They were all thinking the same thing. They had to take him with them but how. They had pulled some of the craziest cons, pulled off some of the hairiest missions, surely they could come up with something. Ideas were tossed about, including disguises, elaborate hoaxes, forged paperwork but finally they decided that the simplest was the best.

On the appointed day Actor arranged to borrow a large truck. The back was prepared, supplies were loaded and they set off. First stop was the hospital where Goniff was wheeled out and lifted inside. A special chair had been strapped into place. This was his seat for the trip to the coast. Next they drove to the asylum to get Chief.

It was a forbidding building, cold and unwelcoming, surrounded by high walls and locked gates. Actor had called ahead and they were admitted to the grounds grudgingly. The drive to the building's entrance was done in silence, the entryway just as silent. Actor in his official capacity talked to the Doctor, reiterating their desire to say goodbye to the man who had saved them on their last mission. They could not, in all good conscience, leave without saying, 'thank you'. They were led back outside and around to a side garden. Twenty minutes later an orderly appeared pushing a wheel chair. A figure sat slumped unmoving as he was pushed closer. The orderly said he would return in fifteen minutes but Actor convinced him to go for an extra cigarette as he slipped a package into his jacket pocket. He turned and left.

Chief was almost unrecognizable. He was thin and pale. The pants he was wearing did not fit and the straightjacket that confined his upper body broke their hearts. They knelt down in front but Chief did not raise his head, he continued to stare at the ground. He was sedated just as the Doctor had said. A quick look around and Chief was picked up and carried around to the front. No one was insight so Garrison carried him to the truck while being guided by Casino. He too was settled in the back as Casino drove the truck out to the gates and away. They headed to the coast and England

The trip to England was uneventful. The brass agreed to retrieve them by plane due to the injuries that needed immediate treatment. Once they were back In England Goniff was admitted to the Military Hospital in London where another team of surgeons x-rayed, poked and prodded and finally operated. They said it would be an improvement but they said a full recovery was not in the future. Crutches or a cane maybe but he would never dance again. He would also be on pain medication for the rest of his life.

Garrison also underwent surgery to repair a detached retina. He was blindfolded again for a time to let his eyes rest then he would have to wear an eye patch for several months. Scratched corneas had been suspected but ruled out after further examination. His sight should return but he would always have to be careful.

Actor was seen by a neurologist who said there was nothing he could do. The major nerve to his forearm and hand had been crushed. It might recover but it might not. He suggested therapy but no guarantee.

Casino's trip to the audiologist was frustrating. The Doctor was talking about him like he wasn't in the room. He just kept looking at Actor and talking. Actor kept trying to direct his attention to the patient but he was ignored.

It was as he sat there fuming that he realized that he was not in complete silence. There was a ringing sound off in the distance. He turned his head this way and that. It was. He was starting to hear something in his one ear. He stopped fuming and listened. All he heard was the distant ringing but it was a start. He was going to hear again. Just when was the question. He had hope, as long as it did not take too long. There was a limit to his patience. Once they were outside the office he told Actor. His smile was genuine. Finally there was some good news.

Chief was committed to an insane asylum.

Two weeks later Craig got the news. His and his men's' travel papers were approved. They were going home; at least four of them were going home. Again they discussed what to do. It worked before, it would work again. With a few modifications they put their plan into place and worked it.

They all showed up to visit their sick team mate, to say good bye to the man who had been so instrumental to their survival. Garrison was as convincing as Actor had been in Italy and they were admitted to the grounds and escorted to the garden where Chief was already waiting. At least this time he was sitting on a bench with an Orderly. Garrison, wearing dark glasses and carrying a cane asked if he would give them some privacy. The things they were going to talk about were classified. The man obliged. Once he was out of sight Garrison approached the seated man.

"Chief?" He was rewarded with a lift of his head and eye contact though he was not sure how with it he was. The Doctors had changed or reduced his medication. That was good.

"Let's go for a walk. You like to go walking. Come." It was working. Chief rose and began to walk beside him. The others fell into step and they headed for the car. All was going well until Craig asked him to get in. He balked and they saw the panic.

"Chief, we need to get away from here. You don't want to go back there, do you? Come, follow me. This is the way to freedom. I don't want to go without you. Please come with me. I'll look after you. We'll all protect you." Nothing happened, he continued to stand there.

Craig was scared that he would turn and go back. He had to do something. "The rest of you come over here. Speak to him then climb in." Goniff had remained in the car with his leg out straight across the back seat so he leaned in with his instruction. "Goniff, call to him and try to wave him in." Meanwhile Actor mimed the instructions to Casino."

Goniff had taken his pills before they left so he was in little pain. Instead he was silly.

"'ey Chiefie. Come on in, the waters fine. Come on, you can do it."

Casino could not hear the Englishman but he was concerned by the looks on the other men so he stepped in to do his part.

"Come on Chief. We gotta go." The deaf former safe cracker climbed into the car then slid over until he was in the driver's seat. Actor was next. If it had not been so serious it would have been comical to see a man, six foot four, climb into the back seat of a car then shuffle over to make room while only using one arm. It would have been even funnier if he had tried to climb over the front seat.

That left Chief and Garrison. He had hoped to get Chief in the back but it was not working. He eyed the back door and then Garrison as he licked his lips. A decision was getting close and it could go either way.

"I'm going to sit up here, you get in there," he said as he gestured to the back seat.

Chief frowned and opened his mouth breathing faster. He was not going to get in.

"Do you want to sit up here?" He gestured to the front seat this time but he still did not move.

"Get in, Craig and see what happens."

He did as was suggested but when he went to close the door Chief made his move.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Going Home

Loyalty overrode his fear and he stepped forward and was almost hit by the door. Afraid to do otherwise Garrison slid over and Chief climbed in. They got the door closed and they were underway. Fortunately the guard at the gate did not remember how many came in so he did not notice the extra going out. They had done it. Now to get on the ship and home.

They had not gone far when Garrison realized that Chief was trembling. His first instinct was to stop the car and try to calm the man but after the trouble they had getting him in he did not want to chance not being able to repeat the procedure with the same success.

"It's all right Chief, we're all together. We've done this many times. Here, roll down the window, maybe some fresh air." He had to lean forward and show him the handle and get him started. Even then he was so anxious that his hand kept coming off the handle.

"Slowly Chief, just relax. Do it slowly." His words must have gotten through because he slowed and finally got the window open. He stuck his head and arm out taking deep breaths.

"Everyone all right back there?" asked Garrison unable to turn because of the cramped quarter in the front seat.

"Goniff is asleep. I will be fine."

Casino drove on.

Finally they reached the harbor. Casino drove in as close as he could get and let the others out. Goniff woke up groggy and grouchy. They were all chilled from the open window drive but at least Chief was there. They unloaded their bags and just before Casino drove away Actor sat in the front passenger seat and opened the glove box. From inside he pulled out several flasks and tucked them into his and Garrison's coat pockets. Insurance for the trip.

They waited until Casino returned from dropping off the car. They would all board together.

With Garrison and Actor flanking Goniff, each with an arm over their shoulder they set off toward the dock where the massive ship was docked. The RMS Queen Mary, originally a luxury liner, had been converted to a Troop Carrier during the war. At over a thousand feet long and 118 feet wide she often carried up to fifteen thousand men at a time. Now the war was over and her latest trip was to return soldiers to the United States. Garrison had hoped that Casino and Chief would go first so he could watch him but Chief had other ideas. Chief absolutely refused to lead so the two followed instead. Garrison had to trust that Casino would keep an eye on him. There were soldiers milling about on the dock in preparation for boarding. Some were waiting for friends other saying good bye to friends and lovers. At the edge of the mass Garrison stopped and pulled out one of the flasks. He tipped it up to Goniff's mouth and he drank obligingly. Getting him aboard was going to cause him a great deal of pain but he insisted he wanted to board with them. He had to appear ambulatory.

"That's enough."

"Aw, Warden, just a little more."

He grinned at the Englishman and put the lid back on. "Let's go. You two all right?" He turned to check remembering that Casino still could not hear well. What he saw troubled him. He had expected Chief's eyes to be drawn to the massive ship. It was quite impressive but instead they were looking back and forth at the crowd, his eyes wide with fear. He was scared of the crowd.

Change of plans. "Casino," and he pointed to him. "You and Chief," and he indicated him as well, "stay here." He pointed to the ground. "Actor and I will take Goniff up and then I'll return for you two." He gestured the actions as he spoke and Casino nodded. He tried to get Chief's attention but his eyes were glued to the crowd.

That is until Garrison tried to leave. Chief gasped, stepped forward then took two steps back shaking his head. He looked to Garrison as he panted.

"It's all right, kid," said Casino. "Here, Warden. I'll take your place and you stay."

Garrison sorted out the papers they needed to board, making sure that Casino had the right ones. He kept his own and the forged ones they had had made for Chief. It helped to know someone on the other side of the law. They would wait while the others boarded. The ship was to sail this evening so he had a few hours to convince him or con him.

Instead of getting less busy the dock was getting more crowded as last minute soldiers arrived with their well-wishers. He could not wait any longer. Picking up both bags he drew his friend away to a quiet place and took out the flask. He made a show of drinking and then handed it to Chief. He took a drink. Back and forth his passed the flask, barely wetting his own lips. It was a good thing that Chief was not a big drinker like Casino but even so the flask was empty before the look of panic was replaced by the vacant look of a drunken soldier.

"Hey Chief, there's a ship in the harbor. Let's go see it." He picked up the bags and watched. From his lack of co-ordination he could see that Chief was drunk. The lingering presence of the sedatives had amplified the effects of the alcohol. With both hands occupied with the duffle bags he would not be able to steer the Indian and could well lose him in the crowd. Change of plan.

"Here, Chief," he handed him his bag. "This is your stuff. Don't lose it. You got it?" He felt the slight tug as Chief took the weight. "I don't want to get separated in the crowd so you have to stick right with me. You understand? Put your hand on my shoulder." Chief was looking at the crowd clearly concerned.

Craig hated to do it but he had no choice. If they got separated Chief was going to be lost to them forever.

"Chief," he said urgently. "They're right behind us. We have to get away. Our only hope is to get to that ramp and up it. Now go. I'm right behind you."

It worked and Chief took one look back then pushed his way through the crowd and got to the gangway. Craig had to dodge a sailor who stepped into his path and if he had not been so agile he would have been too late to stop Chief from assaulting the guard who was checking papers. He shoved his papers in his face and stepped in front of the Indian. There were some grumbles and yelling from behind him as they cut into the line but they were cleared and up they charged. They were all on board.

At the top of the gangway was a landing and the entrance to the ship. Inside was another checkpoint where the boarding men were being assigned berths. Craig was prepared to wait but one look at Chief he knew that there was trouble. He was cringing, looking at the ceiling and he was shaking. He took a quick look behind him but that way was packed with those next in line. Instead he barged past vaulting over the table and took off running toward the stairs.

"I'll be back. I have to get him." There was yelling and threats behind him but he continued the pursuit.

Like a bloodhound on the trail Chief headed straight for the deck and daylight. Craig found him with hands white knuckled on the rail gripping it like a lifeline. Craig frowned. Chief had always been fearless. He had seen him face down certain death without blinking. He had gone against soldiers with rifles and him with only a knife. How bad was it, buried alive, to leave him like this? What was going to happen to him when they got back home? Where was he to go? If he took him to a hospital he would end up in a sanitarium like the one they had taken him from. Had they done him a favor or prolonged the inevitable? Damn.

"Chief? We have to find the others." They had set a meeting place but the Indian did not seem inclined to move so Garrison stood beside him with his back to the rail as he scanned the crowd looking for a familiar face among all the soldiers milling about, waving good bye or just enjoying the sights from the rail.

With Actor's height he was the one to spot them and eventually he made his way to their position trailed by their safecracker.

"You made it!" exclaimed Casino. "We're on our way home." Suddenly he realized and he turned anxious. "Hey, where's Chief? You didn't leave him?"

Craig turned to look. He was gone. Shit.

"There!" shouted Actor as he pointed up to the highest point a passenger could get to. A solitary figure stood looking out.

"Is he all right?" Casino asked concerned.

"He doesn't like the crowds."

"Well, as long as he doesn't get off the ship while we're still in port then he can stand where ever he wants." Those turned out to be prophetic words.

Eventually the ships horn blew, the gangway was removed, the ropes were released and the tugs took over. They were under way. People stood shoulder to shoulder waving to the people on the dock, yelling good byes. Garrison and his men realized that Chief had the right idea and they too found a quiet spot on the far rail before moving to where Chief was standing.

Once they were out of the port and the land began to recede the soldiers headed below. The wind had picked up so the team decided to go too. They headed for the deck and thankfully Chief followed to a point. As soon as Chief saw the door he balked, panicking. Garrison tried but nothing would make him go through the door. Now what were they to do? He could not stay out on deck for the four days it would take to reach their destination.

Chief found a place that was sheltered from the wind but it was getting colder. Actor and Casino made the rounds trying to find some alcohol but no one was sharing. Garrison tried the Officers' Quarters but he was turned down. Officers did not share alcohol with civilians. They were not even willing to sell a bottle.

As the temperature continued to drop Actor gave his coat to Chief to put on over his own. Gloves and mitts were borrowed. All this helped but he still looked cold so, still a team, they took turns staying with him for a few hours at a time.

Finally Casino had had enough. When he came back in he had a message for Garrison.

"I say we punch his lights out and drag him in. Either he's going to freeze to death or one of us is."

"Casino," said a shocked Actor. "The man has a head injury and you want to punch him in the head?"

"Maybe it'll fix him."

"Permanently?" asked Actor in his best SS threatening tone.

Casino backed down. "I just don't want him out there freezing to death."

"I know," said Garrison. "None of us do. I guess we should have sent you inside to steal some of the sedative they were giving him."

The Warden had been sarcastic but the safe cracker took him seriously. "Yeah. Too late now." He took off the borrowed Great Coat and handed it to his leader.

Garrison took the coat and put it on over his own coat. He had an idea. Instead of heading to where they had left the Indian he made a few stops before trying the bridge. Access was restricted but he worked his way up until he was able to pass a message to the Captain of the ship. His initial request was rebuffed but he persisted and finally he was granted permission to enter the bridge.

"Captain." He saluted and waited.

"You are a pain in the ass, you know that?" Captain Turnbull did not mince words.

"Yes sir. It's for one of my men. He was injured on our last mission, caught in a building collapse. It took us three days to get him out. Now he won't go in a building or through a door. I was hoping…"

"What kind of imbecile brings a patient like that on board my ship? He should have been left in the Hospital where he could have been treated."

"With all due respect, Sir, he has been a loyal, hard-working man. He has saved our lives countless times even getting injured in the process. We couldn't leave him tied up in a straightjacket and drugged to the gills. He deserves to go home like the rest of us."

"And what do you expect me to about this," he asked, "head south so the weather is warmer?" he added sarcastically.

Garrison held his temper in check. "That would be nice, sir, but I was hoping that you would allow him to stay on the bridge where he can see out. I was hoping I could get him, at least out of the weather."

The Captain glared at the Army Officer who would dare to ask him to let a soldier on his bridge. This was a serious place where only highly trained Navy personnel were allowed. He could not have some someone standing around getting in the way.

"In the Navy, where the real men are, we would slug'm and haul'm below." The ship's Captain figured that would tell the Army he meant business and that he was not a pushover for a scared soldier.

"He has a possible fractured skull," said Garrison coldly. "I will take down the first person who tries to hit him, Sir. Thank you for … your time."

Several of the Officers present on the bridge stopped what they were doing when they heard the threat, though they knew not to look up. This was the Captain's business but they could not help being impressed by the Army Captain determination to defend his man.

Garrison turned to leave but was stopped by the Captain's voice. "I didn't say I wouldn't allow him."

Garrison waited.

"Bring him around and I'll give him a tour of the bridge. If he's not a pain in the ass like you, I'll let him stay."

Garrison turned back to face the Captain, saluted and said "Thank you, Sir."

Craig found his friend at the stern in a corner he had found. Even with an extra coat he looked cold. They had hoped that he would give in when it got this bad but it had not happened. Chief absolutely refused to go in. Actor suggested it had to be a reaction to being trapped in the rubble for so long.

"Chief, there's something I want to show you. It will be warmer. Come."

The Indian was squatting in the sheltered corner with his head tucked down into the upturned collar. Someone had given him a hat but it must have blown off. His damp hair was tossed by the occasional breeze that managed to whip around the corner. He did not seem inclined to move so Garrison threw in the only incentive that worked.

"They've got coffee."

Bleak eyes lifted and met his. If staying here was this miserable then his terror at going inside had to be even worse. Garrison extended his gloved hand and Chief rose stiffly on his own.

Craig led him to the bridge. "The Captain said you could go in there to warm up." He saw the look of fear and the slight shake of his head. "See, you can see out. There are windows all around. Even the door has glass. Anything happens you can break the glass to get out. Just try it. You don't have to stay. Just step inside, get a coffee and you can come back out if you like." He could see the Indian was wavering.

Henry R. Turnbull had been the Captain of this ship since she was converted to a troop carrier. His bridge crew was experienced so when he heard the call that they were receiving a message he knew to respond. The operator would have identified the source and that it was important. He moved in to read the message. As he read the weather warning he felt the cold and heard the wind. Someone had opened the door. Normally entry and exit were accomplished quickly, but not this time. The Captain turned ready to blast whoever was holding the door open but it closed as he turned. He waited and finally it opened again. Whoever opened it was standing with their back to the door but it was the other figure's face that caught his eye. The figure was standing, bundled in a coat, shoulders hunched against the cold. His face was a mix of fear and wanting. A particularly strong gust forced the decision and the figure crouched as he moved toward the door; his mouth was open as he stared up at the frame as he passed under, almost as if he feared it would fall on him. Once inside he stood next to the door, eyes wide, gasping, ready to bolt.

"Look out the window. There's nothing between you and outside but a piece of glass. You can see out just like I said." It was the Army Officer and he had brought his injured man.

The Captain watched as the Army Officer opened his coat and brought out a thermos. He opened it and poured a little of the steaming liquid into the cap and handed over. The frightened man took it in both of his trembling hands, pulling his face away from the glass long enough to lifted it to his lips and drink. More was added and he drank again. The next time he just stood cupping the lid in his still shaking hands as he pressed his face back against the glass. The bridge crew carried out their duties with their usual care but they also kept an eye on the two soldiers. They could see how deeply the Officer cared for this man.

It took a while but Chief's shivering finally slowed. He remained as close to the glass as he could get though he occasionally looked toward the other windows. When one of the crew stepped out the door Garrison saw him lean toward the opening as if to follow but he remained. The night dragged on and Garrison wanted to sleep but unless he could get the Indian to sleep too he would remain alert. He had tried to get Chief to sit but he refused. He had to be able to see out. At one point he wavered but caught himself before he fell. He would not sleep.

Morning arrived grey and overcast. It had rained during the night and the forecast called for more. The Captain, who had left shortly after the two soldiers had arrived, returned to the bridge, not totally surprised to see both men still at the window. They both looked exhausted.

"Chief?" asked the soldier. "I'm going to get some food. Will you stay here?" He received no answer but when he moved toward the door the Indian made to follow. "It's cold outside and I'm going below. I want you to stay right here and I'll be right back. You understand?"

Captain Turnbull moved over toward the door. He was impressed by the lengths that he was willing to go to look after his man. He had to help. "I'll have some food brought up."

"Thank you, Sir, but I need to let the others from my team know where we are. They're probably worried."

"Give my First Officer their names and where they might be and he'll get a message to them." He then raised his voice to be heard and called "Waverly." The First Officer arrived at his elbow.

Garrison gave the man the details and within half an hour a tray of food was delivered and Actor and Casino arrived looking relieved. The bridge was big enough for the crew but not for the extra personal so Garrison grabbed a sandwich as Actor entered. The Italian distracted Chief with the food as Garrison slipped out. The ship's Captain was impressed at the way the handoff was accomplished. Without speaking or planning they had exchanged places without upsetting the injured man.

A short time later Chief headed for the door.

"Chief?" asked Actor. He had been standing against the post on the other side of the door.

"Gotta take a leak," he answered softly.

"I'll come with you."

"No. I'll be back."

"Look me in the eye and tell me that."

Chief looked away and Actor waited. Finally he looked up and said, "I wanna get some fresh air then I promise."

"Promise what?"

Chief sighed. "I will come back."

"Here?"

Hearing his acknowledgement Actor reached for the door release and Chief slipped outside.

"Thank you, Captain," said Actor as he turned to his host, "for allowing us to stay on your bridge. You have probably saved his life and we are in you debt."

"You've worked together for a while," suggested Turnbull.

"Yes, a little over two years."

The rest of the crossing followed the same pattern. Chief spent the days on deck and returned, although reluctantly, to the Bridge after dark. Casino and Actor took the day shifts and Garrison the nights. Chief dozed during the day in his sheltered spot aft. A few soldiers saw them but a few words for his guards deterred them. One offered to stand watch for them but knowing Chief's distrust Actor thanked him for his offer but declined. Instead he brought them coffee and sandwiches. He had a friend in the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Home at Last

Though the trip, lasting four and a half days had been smooth with decent weather most passengers and crew were eager to disembark. Below on the dock the crowds eagerly awaited their loved ones breaking into cheers, yelling and waving when the first ones appeared.

It had taken some time due to the volume but finally the crowds were gone and the last of the passengers were set to walk the gangway down to the dock. Casino and Garrison carried the Englishman down to the landing, Actor escorted the young woman who had joined them and Chief arrived moments later.

Without a word the others fell back allowing Goniff, a slight blonde man with crutches, to take the lead. Casino, with his duffle in one hand, fell in beside him. Goniff had hoped to be able to use his cane for this memorable event but the pain of putting his weight on his injured leg had killed that idea. To preserve his dignity and to prevent having to be carried on a stretcher with the non-ambulatory patients he was determined to make this trip under his own steam. Clutching the handles he placed the supports under his arms and took a deep breath as he eyed the long sloping ramp. He could do this. With Casino beside him and the others behind, he would arrive home on his feet, or at least on one of his feet.

At least it was not steps, with his ruined knee they were beyond his ability. Onboard the ship he had been forced to allow Garrison and Casino to carry him up and down. It had been humiliating for the once agile man. Even Actor's reminder that he had saved their lives many times and they were only too happy to help him only went so far. It wasn't until Actor told him that royalty in India did not walk on the ground, they were carried by servants. He had looked skeptical but Actor told him that he had a chance here to con everyone into thinking he was royalty. Goniff had frowned but that had morphed into a smile. He finally laughed at the absurdity of him, blonde hair and blue eyes being mistaken for an Indian prince.

"Just call me Prince Goniff," he had said haughtily, falling into the game.

Actor had bowed and said, "Rajah. Rajah means king." That had done the trick.

Actor offered his arm to the young woman who had come to meet the returning troops even though she had lost her love earlier in the fighting. Actor had seen her and gone down to meet her and ended up bringing her on deck to meet the others. She was thrilled with Actor's gallantry and gladly accepted his offer. She was years younger than he but she had touched that hidden place in his heart when she had run to and held him. The fact she had thought he was someone else had saddened him but her subsequent crying in his arms had soothed him. She was hurt and he had helped her heal.

Behind the con man was the CO, the only one in uniform. Craig had taken the time to shave and change into a clean and pressed uniform. So much of the war was spent in the clothes of the locals and as comfortable as that had been it felt good to know that he would be back to wearing his uniform full time. What was even better was knowing that after his leave he would be getting his promotion. It would have been nice to have his men present but next best was accepting his gold leaf at West Point. Major Garrison, it had a nice ring to it.

Silently and a pace back was the last member of the group. Thanks to the ship's Captain, he waited for them at the head of the gangplank. Captain Turnbull had overheard a crew member talking about the injured soldier that he had allowed to stay on the bridge. Instead of deriding him for breaking his own rules they had admired the lengths that he would go to help. The suggestion of using the boson's chair was a worthy one and with his CO's approval it was implemented. Chief's wary eyes continued to scan. No one saw the look on his face when he stood at the top of the gangplank, high above the world. With his back to the ship's structures there was nothing interrupting his view. Below were the streets, the buildings and the trees. Above was the sky, nothing but sky. He inhaled deeply.

Slowly they made their way down the ramp. About a third of the way down Goniff stopped and looked out over the city appearing to admire the view. His friends joined him even commenting on how good it was to see it again. No one acknowledged the white knuckles on his hands or the sweat on his brow. They waited patiently, pointing out buildings they recognized and reminisced until he finally shifted and continued down the ramp. As they neared the bottom Garrison called out to wait. He dropped the two bags he carried and made a big show of checking his pockets until he checked inside his jacket. He pulled out the packet and smiled. Carefully he replaced it and bent down to retrieve the bags. They continued until they were all on the dock. There was no place to sit so they hoped their ride would not be long in showing up.

"How're you holding up Goniff?" Garrison asked quietly.

"I'll be glad of a sit." Seeing Actor draw closer he said, "I thought you said the Rajah did not 'ave to walk on the ground." He looked down toward his feet being careful not to over balance himself.

"Your Highness," he said with royal deference as he bowed low. He stood up and added, "Shall I pick you up?"

"Not right now, servant." Goniff was pleased with the warning look in Actor eyes. "But an 'and when my carriage arrives would be appreciated." The warning look was replaced with a look of pleasure. Goniff knew the game, as they all did, but he, like the others, enjoyed pushing the boundaries.

In the distance they heard the clip-clop of a horse's hooves on the pavement. A horse drawn carriage approached. No one seemed surprised other than the young woman. When she realized that this was for them she was delighted.

While they waited for it to arrive Actor asked if Craig had heard any news about the Major who had been scheduled to take their last mission. All the cons had a few choice words for him and would have spoken them except for Craig's response.

"There were complications and he died during the surgery. Ruptured appendix." No one spoke as they thought about as bad as they were at least they were alive.

As requested Casino and Garrison hoisted Goniff up into the carriage and he sat with his leg extended. Casino gestured to the woman and Actor held her hand as she too mounted and sat. Casino butted in climbing in before Actor. He sat beside the woman earning a scowl from Actor.

"My turn," he said with a grin then turned his attention to their guest.

The carriage, usually hired by couples in love or a pair of couples would have been crowded with everyone on board but Chief spotted the hand and foot holds on the back. He swung up into the position of the footman. Garrison had been talking with the driver and when he finished he saw what his team mate had done and he moved to the other rear corner and did the same.

"You had this arranged?" asked Casino's seat mate.

Casino said nothing so Actor leaned across. As soon as he moved Casino turned to Actor and then to his companion. "What?"

Actor explained, "A carriage ride through Central Park is a high light to any visit to New York City. We have been away for so long we thought this was a fitting return." This was not the real reason but it was a suitable explanation with enough truth to be acceptable.

Several minutes later the carriage stopped in front of a food vendor. Garrison hopped down and went to put in their orders. As each was prepared he handed the items to the other passengers. When everyone had their food he paid the vendor and hopped back up on his perch. The carriage continued on.

By the time they finished eating Actor leaned across and asked where she lived. She mentioned the neighborhood but they could drop her anywhere and she would get a cab. Actor called out the address to the driver who tipped his hat in acknowledgement. When the carriage finally reached its destination Actor dismounted and held out his hand to assist the young woman. She smiled and took his hand. Together he walked her to her door then thanked her for her warm welcome home. She blushed and gasped when he kissed her hand. She stammered a thank you and reached for the door knob.

Once she was inside Actor returned to the carriage. At a nod from Chief, Garrison took the young woman's place. They continued on to their destination, The Ritz. The choice of this particular destination had been two fold. Actor had stayed at the Ritz in Paris and London several times and wanted to try the American version. The other reason was because they knew Chief would want to stay in the park which was right across the street. Garrison had volunteered to stay with him.

When the carriage pulled to the curb Casino and Garrison disembarked then assisted Goniff. Chief hopped down from the back as Goniff was helped to the sidewalk. Actor paid the cab driver and they stood with their bags looking up at the magnificent building.

"Chief," said Actor, "I would like nothing better than to have you come with us. There will be plenty of room. This building is very safe. There is no war here and no bombs. I understand if you chose otherwise but we would like you to join us."

They watched Chief eye the building. The higher his eyes went the more the fear became evident. He became so afraid that he actually stepped back.

"Look behind you, Chief." Garrison used his command tone to get through the fear.

Chief spun around and seeing the trees he headed for them. Garrison, still clutching his duffle followed after him. He was able to come up beside him and put his arm out in front of him to stop him from stepping into the path of a car. Once the way was clear they crossed and the Indian strode up to the cement wall. He placed his hands on top and was about to climb over so Garrison suggested they walk down to the gate. Chief followed his lead and they walked. As soon as he could Chief moved off the path and onto the grass. He approached a tree then stopped at the edge of the canopy. He inhaled deeply but would go no farther.

Garrison was glad it did not rain that night. Sleeping under the stars was one thing but trying to sleep under rain clouds that were emptying was another. Mind you he would do it for his injured friend but he would rather not.

Morning finally arrived and Garrison rose stiffly. He was cold and tired. First order of business was Chief. Where was he? A quick scan and he saw him sitting on a rock arms outstretched, eyes closed. This was a ritual he had seen many times. Chief was welcoming the sun.

Garrison rolled up his gear and stowed it along with Chief's, each in their duffle. When Chief was finished they headed back to the front of the Ritz. The men were gathered for the last time.

Actor had brought food for the two campers which they gratefully accepted.

"'Ow about we meet back right 'ere in a year. Maybe make it an annual event?" Goniff looked at Casino to be sure he had heard. He had raised his voice but he wanted to be sure his mate did not miss it.

"That sounds like a great idea. As much as I want to be home I don't want to lose touch with you guys." He turned to Chief. "Will you come?"

Chief looked to his friends. They had been great to him. They had come back for him, freed him from that Hell. It must have been hell, he couldn't remember most of it, but what he did, it was hell. They had stayed with him during the crossing even when he could see they didn't want to. He couldn't lie to them. He couldn't tell them what he planned either.

"You will try?" asked Actor.

All he could do was nod. He was pretty sure Casino and Goniff bought it. They tended to take things at face value. The other two he was not so sure about. There was nothing he could think of to say to convince them so he said nothing.

"Good," said Goniff. "One year from today," he checked his watch, "at… what time is it? I'm still on London time."

"Let's say we meet here at noon," said Garrison.

"Major Garrison," started Actor.

"It's not official yet."

"Major Garrison, it has been an honor and a pleasure to work with you. Your students at West Point are very fortunate.

Garrison nodded his acknowledgement at the praise.

"Goniff, Casino and Chief, you have each far exceeded my expectations and I am richer for having known each one of you.

Goniff grinned. "This is 'arder than I thought. You blokes 'ave been the best mates a bloke could ever 'ave. Warden, I was originally angered that you scuppered my parole but, you know, I'm glad you did since it gave me a chance to meet these fine gentlemen. And you too. Thanks Warden."

Casino looked around at the faces before him. "Family is real important but you don't have to be blood to be family. You guys are real family. He grinned and added, "Even you Warden."

"Just don't call me Dad." They all laughed.

All eyes turned to the Officer. "I admit, I had my doubts at first but you removed them, all of them. You even convinced some of the brass. You turned into the best damn covert team. If they gave medals to civilians, you would all have a chest full. Thank you all for your years of service, your support, and your suggestions." This last one was directed at Casino and they all laughed again. "Good luck in your new legitimate lives. You know how to get in touch with me if you need anything, except an alibi." That got a big laugh.

"Goniff, you're off to meet your Mom. Say hello for me. I am sorry I won't get a chance to meet her. Maybe someday I'll drop by." He held out his hand and Goniff shook it.

"You do that Warden, I'm sure she would love to meet you. Just tell 'er you're a General. She'll be real impressed."

"A General?"

"Well," he blushed in embarrassment. "I kinda told 'er I was working for a General." The others laughed.

"I don't know if I should thank you for the promotion or the vote of confidence. Either way…" More good natured laughter followed.

"Casino? Say hello to your family for me as well. You never know, I might get to Brooklyn before you know it." They too, shook hands, each with both hands.

"Actor, I know you would have preferred Manhattan but the best I could do was across the river. At least you will be close."

"Check your map, Actor. Which girlfriend is closer?" said Casino. "Flip a coin, who do I spend the night with?" Both men were grinning.

Actor ignored Garrison's hand and stepped in and hugged him, Italian style. Garrison returned the hug. They had learned to trust and to care for each other. It was only fitting to finally express what they felt for each other.

"And you, Major? You are going home. Say hello to your family for us. Even though you never spoke of them, if they are anything like you then they are fine people as well."

That left Chief.

"Come with me Chief," said Garrison. "You'll be all right in a car."

Chief thought it over. He looked at the car parked on the street as he chewed the inside of his lip.

"Maybe if I had a couple of drinks and some sleeping pills."

Garrison frowned. "Booze and pills?"

"Do you think that is wise?" asked Actor a concerned look on his face.

"I figured the only way I'll get in a car is if," he smiled a sad smile, "I'm drunk and then asleep. Figured I could sleep all the way. Pathetic isn't it?"

"Not pathetic, Chief, injured." For the umpteenth time Craig regretted letting the others talk him into going along with their hare brained scheme to rescue Chief from the Sanitarium. At least there he had a hope of being treated though how you treat someone like Chief by locking him up in a straightjacket and keeping him drugged, he would never understand.

"All right." Garrison looked up and down the street.

"I will ask the concierge." Actor turned and went back into the hotel returning a minute later. "I explained what we needed but he was unwilling to bring alcohol out here. A word with the bellhop and we will be in business in half an hour." He looked pleased with himself.

The bellhop was as good as his word, even being five minutes early. The men headed for the park. As long as the police did not see Chief drinking this was going to work.

Twenty minutes later Chief was becoming very relaxed.

"Think I'm 'bout ready. Where's yer car? Don' know how far I kin walk."

"I was going to take a cab to the rental place."

"If we head over to the park entrance we will have a better chance of flagging down a cab. Shall we go?" Actor stood and waited for the others.

Chief waited until everyone had taken a few steps before he stopped. "I gotta take a leak. Go ahead, I'll catch up."

"Hey, where's he going?" asked Casino. He had been farthest away and had not heard Chief's quiet words. Goniff explained as they continued moving slowly toward the entrance. They were talking among themselves so it wasn't until they had reached the entrance and Actor was about to hail a cab when they realized that Chief had not caught up to them.

"You don't think a cop picked him up for drinking do you?" asked Casino.

"I don't know. I'll go back and look." Garrison returned fifteen minutes later, alone. "There's no sign of him anywhere."

"Why that lousy no good… He gave us the slip. Just like last time we were here."

"Anyone have any idea where he went that time?" Shaking heads and bewildered looks was all he got.

They kept looking until they had to leave. Chief had not had an accident, he had not fallen somewhere. He had left, the alcohol he had drank either muddled him enough that he had decided to take off, which was the preferred theory or he had planned all along to get drunk and leave.

They finally had to concede defeat. Like Goniff had said the last time; if Chief did not want to be found then they were not going to find him. On that note the remaining members of the 'best damn covert team' went their separate ways each taking their memories with them. There was nothing else they could do.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

New Lives

Goniff had been welcomed home by his mom with a home cooked meal. Several of the neighbors dropped by to welcome the young man home. They wanted to shake the hand of the hero who had saved their 'Merry olde England'. Then Mom said to get his coat that they were off but she would not say to where. Goniff's leg was feeling rested but even if it hurt he would have agreed to go. His Mom was so happy to have him home alive that she had not stopped smiling. Now she wanted to go show off her hero to the rest of the city. It was good to see her smile.

His Mom's apartment was small but homey with her pieces of 'over 'ome' about the place. It was a third floor walk-up but at some point a freight elevator had been added. It was strictly for moving furniture but a special request from Mom had her in possession of a key. It was not stylish but it got Goniff up and down when he needed it.

Out on the street Mom flagged a cab for the short trip that deposited them in front of The Hare and Hounds. His Mom had found a home style pub right here in New York City. Goniff grinned in anticipation.

Sandwiched between two larger building the place was deeper than wide. Inside it was busy with people standing at the bar that lined one wall and others sitting at the tables that ran along the opposite wall of the long room.

"Let my 'ero through," was all Mom had to say and they moved aside. A few gave him a salute and some said a quiet 'welcome 'ome'. They slowly made their way to a back table where two seats had been saved by a couple who stood and welcomed the two late arrivals. The four had met when they had immigrated some years before.

"'Ere let me get you a pint," said Winston as he started to slip out from behind the table.

"I'll get it," said Rodney and he turned toward the bar completely forgetting that both his hands were occupied with the crutches. Fortunately Winston saw the problem and followed him. Goniff had trouble getting close to the bar where a lively rugby discussion was going on. Unfortunately the bartender was involved. Recognizing the solution he made his way around behind the bar and proceeded to the tap where he began pulling pints and placing them on the bar.

"I'll 'ave one a those," and money appeared on the bar.

Goniff continued to serve. Finally the barkeeper noticed the activity. He was about to tell the intruder to go sit down but he saw the money being exchanged and the smiles on the customers so he continued to work the other end of the bar.

Mom had been wondering where Rodney had gotten to. Winston had returned with the pints saying Goniff was helping Lionel behind the bar. It looked like he was having the time of his life so they had not waited to start their drinks. Mom knew how bad his leg was so after a few minutes she looked to see where he was. There were people in the way and she did not want him to think she was babying him so she remained sitting but she watched.

As the backlog eased and the orders slowed the barkeeper came over to the younger man. Lionel was an older man who had aged well. He was Goniff's height but his hair had receded long ago about the time he had lost sight of his knees. Like Goniff his optimistic outlook had left him with permanent laugh lines.

"Thank you for…" He frowned. "You don't look too good. Maybe you should sit for a bit."

"Maybe you could give me your arm," he gasped out between clenched teeth. The pain in his leg had started slowly and built with every minute he had waited until now his whole side was on fire immobilizing him. He stood leaning against the bar, his hands grasping the top. He was as white as a sheet.

Finally the last person moved and Mom saw him standing there grimacing in pain with Lionel standing beside him a worried look on his face. She leapt to her feet and hurried over.

"Rodney, luv, are you all right?" She knew he was not. "Someone, get 'im a chair. Lionel! It's 'is leg. 'E as to sit down." He hustled back to her table and her hand dove into her purse returning with his pill bottle. She hurried back with more instructions.

"Get 'im some water. 'Ere," and she shoved her palm at him containing three pills. "Take these. Where's the… Oh, thanks Lionel." A glass of water appeared in front of the stricken man. Mom was about to call for the chair again but one was handed over the bar and with a bit of maneuvering was placed behind him. Two strong arms pried his white knuckled fingers off the bar and Goniff was lowered gently until he was seated.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" asked Lionel as he hovered over his helper as he downed the pills.

Goniff just shook his head as he tried not to give in to the pain. It was all he could do not to cry, the pain was that bad.

The room was abuzz with questions of 'what happened?' and 'did someone fall?' and 'is 'e all right?' so Winston raised his voice and said. "Rose's boy was injured oversea. 'E's a war 'ero and stood too long. 'E'll be right as rain after a sit down."

It started slowly with a single voice and it grew until the whole place was singing, 'For he's a jolly good fellow.'

Goniff smiled through the pain. It was heartening to be acknowledged. He just wished he did not hurt so much so he could enjoy it.

Twenty minutes later Goniff, chair and all were carried out to the curb where a cab was waiting to take the two back home. Lionel trailed behind to make sure they got off all right.

Once they were back in the apartment Mom shucked her coat hanging it on the back of the door and hurried into the kitchen. "Fancy a cup? I'll put the kettle on."

Goniff heard the water run and then splash into the kettle. It was a familiar sound, the sound of home. "If you don't mind, I think I'll just go to bed." His leg hurt but worse than that he had wrecked his Mom's night out. He leaned heavily on the crutches and said, "I'm sorry Mom." Maybe it was the pain but his good spirits had fled.

"You're sorry?" She was puzzled and it showed on her expressive face. "What 'ave you to be sorry about? You went over and fought for old Blighty and you've come back safe…" she almost said 'safe and sound' but changed it to "and an 'ero, too."

Goniff caught the inference and looked down at his leg. "Not safe and sound. I come back a cripple. I'm no good to you now."

Mom approached silently and touched his face gently. "Rodney. You came back," her voice caught and tears appeared in her eyes. "Mrs. McGovern's son didn't come back, at all. 'Ear tell they found bits of 'is body blown up by a mine. Winslow, down by the market, 'is son died when 'is ship sank. 'E didn't come back either. You, you did. You came back to me." Her voice became firmer. "I don't care if you use crutches or even a wheel chair. That doesn't matter to me. What matters is that you came back like you said you would. My Rodney kept 'is word." She stepped back a step and said, "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm just so proud of you."

Rodney did not know what to say. You can handle a lot when you know someone loves you and his Mom loved him. Tears came to his eyes as she stepped in closer and hugged him. They stood holding each other until Goniff began to wobble.

"Oh dear," she said breaking the close contact but still holding his arm. "Let's get you off to bed. I want you to sleep in the bed."

"No, Mom," he said with a grin. "I've slept on things a lot worse than a couch. There was this one time all we 'ad was a bale of straw. That stuff is bloody prickly."

His Mom laughed as she helped him to the couch. He still felt bad but not as bad as he had. Mom always knew how to make him feel better.

Casino walked to the corner of his street and stopped. There was the old neighborhood just the way he remembered it. The houses still stood side-by-side. The picket fence around Oddie's front yard was still leaning though Oddie was probably dead by now. The kids still ran in the street chasing a ball. Frankie's dog wasn't there but his old man probably finally caught it and tied it up like he threatened to do. As he began the walk down the sidewalk and he returned the wave from Mrs. Wierzbowski. She probably did not recognize him; she had never spoken to him other than to yell at him to get the hell off her grass. Down the street a child stopped to stare at him and then he pointed and yelled. The other children stopped and stared before one began to walk his way then turned to run to one of the houses. The other children stood watching him as he arrived at his house and turned up the walk. He took the steps two at a time, crossed the porch and opened the door.

That was as far as he got because he suddenly had his arms full of first one sister and then another. They were laughing and crying and hugging and kissing. Finally they released him or were pulled off by his brothers. More hugging and laughing ensued. Finally he was able to get a look in the door and the sight broke his heart.

"Graminha," he whispered as he pushed everyone away and went to her. She had aged since he had seen her last. When he was younger he had thought of her as tall now she was tiny, bent and wrinkled. He took a step then went down on one knee.

"Como você está?"

She lifted her snow capped head and said, "Faustino, meu menino doce, quanto tempo vocês ficar?"

"I'm home for good. The war is over. I've come home."

"Bom," she said as she put her palm to his cheek. Such a gentle touch swelled his heart. Then shifting her cane she shuffled her feet until she was turned and she went back inside.

Casino hollered a 'I'll be right back' to the crowd on the porch and he followed his other mother down the hall. Three steps in he met his Mother.

"Mama," was all he could say as she opened her arms and they hugged.

When she finally released him she pushed him back while holding his upper arm. She looked him in the eye then around his face then to his body. "I thought the way you wrote that you would be skin and bones. You look good, Tony." It was true. The constant exercise and training had firmed them all.

"Not as good as you, Mama. I've waited so long for this day, praying that it would come."

"You're prayers were answered. You're home. How long are you here for?"

"For good. No more of the old life." He was serious. "I want to settle down, get a job," his tone became flipant, "and marry Olivia." He saw his Mother's look of concern and knew there was trouble. He and Olivia had been sweethearts all through school. Everyone figured they would marry even after the first time he had gotten arrested. Her look told him he was too late. "It's all right , Moma, I figured she was married." He had thought that would remove the worry but it deepened.

"What is it, Mama?" He thought to ease her concern with levity. "What? She got married, had a couple of kids, got fat and ugly?"

The look turned to sadness and she started to turn away.

"Please," he begged and he grabbed her hand. She started to talk but he could not hear for the noise on the porch. "Wait. In here," and he pulled her into the tiny front room.

"She married a used car salesman, a fellow from Ohio. He got drunk on their wedding night and beat her up. She died the next morning."

"Oh, God, Mama." He felt like someone had just thrown him out of a plane. His knees got weak and he sat heavily on the couch. "Not Olivia." His eyes watered. "How could he do that to Olivia. She was so smart and pretty." He clenched his hands as the tears ran down his face.

A face popped in the doorway. "Hey, Where's..." It was his youngest brother, Julio. "Oh. Are you all right. What's wrong."

Tough guy Casino wiped his face with his hands and stood as his Mother turned and left. Casino did not hear it but he saw the understanding as she passed Julio. She must have whispered her name because his youngest brother came over.

"I'm sorry, Tony. It was a real shock to everybody. The cops tried to arrest him but he took off. They had a Mass at the cathedral. Everybody was there."

"I wasn't." His voice was strangled with pain.

"There wasn't anything you could do."

"I know, but damn, Olivia?"

"If you want we can go see her parents later."

"Yeah." He stood and headed for the bathroom so he could wash his face.

Later he was back outside on the porch. His timing had been perfect. Two other soldiers had returned as well and the street was planning a party. They already had the baracades to block the ends of the street and every house had something going in the kitchen. This street knew how to celebrate the safe return of its sons. Even Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were contibuting even though their two sons had died. They would be remembered too. Tables began to appear on the porches and food appeared. People roamed the street and music blared. Someone had approached the priest about using the church hall but it had been booked for another event so this was their solution.

Everyone came out to talk and mingle. Casino's oldest brother, Fransico, or Frankie, had died in the Philipines and Nicodemo, Nickie, had decided to remain in the service so he wore his uniform. The other soldiers were known to everyone though some were surprised to hear that Casino had served. They were all thanked, had their hands shaken and were given glasses of wine.

One young lad, too young to serve came up the Casino and said, "Did ya kill any?"

Two glasses of wine and party noise behind him he thought he was asked if he had kidded Amy so he said, "Was I supposed to?"

Several people within earshot heard this and thought he was being funny and they laughed.

Casino was glad he had made them happy but he had no idea what the joke was. He smiled to go along with it until they left. He asked his brother who Amy was but he did not know. Enough happened that he forgot about his confusion.

All went well until the speaches. The proud parents of the soldiers were invited up to speak with their sons. Mr. Hurst went first and a young girl brought a boquet of flowers as he spoke of his sons. Then it was on to the next parents. Finally his Mother got up to say how proud she was of all her sons and how glad she was that at least two had come home. As she was returning to her family someone lit off a firecracker. A few people jumped but not like the former soldiers. Casino ducked and grabbed for his pistol which fortunately was not there. He saw another man dive under the table and the third grab the closest person, his aunt, and pull her down covering her with his body. A few of the children who had seen what happened laughed.

Casino was scared. The sound was nothing like an artillery barage but it had sparked the same reaction. That was not something he wanted to remember or experience again. He rushed over and grabbed one of the children by the arm.

"Hey, it was just a firecracker. No need to get all upset," said his father.

Casino turned on him and shot him a glare then he turned on the kid pulling him up by the arm. "Don't you ever do that again. If I had had a gun on me I would have shot you. You understand?" The boy looked scared but to make sure he understood he pointed to the soldier who had acted to protect his buddy.

"Look over there." The soldier was visibly cowering as people nearby helped his aunt to her feet. She was shaken but did not appear to be injured. "That funny too? You owe that man and woman an apology and him over there too."

"I didn't do it," he squeeked.

"I don't care. You thought it was funny. Was it?" Nothing happened so he gave him a shove. "Was it?" Seeing the shake of the head. "Best you get the others to apologize as well."

Casino shoved him away and forced himself to calm down. It only partially worked. "I need a drink." He went over to the closest soldier who had climbed out from under the table. "Let's go get us a drink."He was pale and shaking but he accepted the shot glass that was handed to him and downed it in one toss. Casino accepted the next one. The party resumed but there were no more fireworks.

Eventually the youngsters were herded inside and put to bed. The adults lingered for a bit then they too retreated inside. The three soldiers remained sitting on the curb passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth. No one talked about the war or what they had seen but its presence hung over them. Finally the protective one rose unsteadily and headed off down the street. He passed his house and had to turn around and try again. The second man rose and tottered off silently. Falling tears make no sound. Casino sat in silence until a car drove down the street honking its horn at him. He stood and made his way home.

The next morning everyone greeted him and life went on in the household.

"Ana, what time do have to be there tonight?" asked Mama as she placed a plate of toast of the table.

"She said seven but they're never ready." Ana was a beauty like her mother, tall, slim with dark hair and eyes. She had married her highschool sweetheart just before he had enlisted. He died on the beach at Normandy the same day their son had been born. She had named him Norman after his father.

"It does not matter. You be on time."

"You going out somewhere?" asked Casino. Maybe he could go with them.

"Baby sitting," was all she said as she grabbed a piece of toast and hurried out of the room.

Rebeca sat quietly eating her breakfast as the matriarch tottered into the room. They all welcomed her as she sat down. Her daughter placed her breakfast before her and she ate after saying a silent blessing.

"Rebeca, please take that plate back to..."

"I don't have time." Rebeca took after her father's side. She was short and was going to be heavy if she was not careful. Her hair was a lighter brown and her eyes were hazel. She was considered pretty as were all the girls if you could get her face out of the book she was currently reading.

"Eat a little faster and you will."

"Mama," she whined.

Casino opened his mouth to admonish her but their Mother beat him to it.

"As I recall you were the first to help youself so you can return the plate."

"And tell her they were delicious," threw in Julio who ambled into the room. The baby of the family even though he was fifteen now, was also the peacemaker. Gregorio, three years older and dark like their mother followed behind him. He was the quiet one.

Casino wondered what she had made but the moment was lost when Dores arrived insisting that she was late and needed bus fare.

Seeing his chance Casino grabbed his wallet and offered to walk her to the stop.

"Thanks Tony," as she held out her hand, "But Jay's walking me." Dores was short like her younger sister Rebeca but she was thin like her mother. Beca was the smart one, Dores the funny one.

"Jay?" he questioned his Mother but she just shrugged. He almost said she was too young for boys but caught himself. He had been gone a long time. Quick arithmatic in his head, shit, she was twenty. The conversations flowed with everyone knowing the references to previous conversations and events, all excet Casino. They talked to him as well but he felt so left out. Finally the bustle slowed and he was left at the table with Nicodemo. Nicky had put aside his uniform while he was home. Time enough for that when he returned to the base.

"Coreen been around or you planning to surprise her." She was his steady girl. Probably going to ask her to marry him, thought Casino.

"Didn't you hear? She Dear Johned me," he said bitterly.

"She what? Is she nuts?" Nicky was a very handsome man.

"She met someone else while I was away."

"Her loss. That why you decided to stay in the Army?"

"Partly and it's a job."

Casino snorted. Now that the war was over it wouldn't be so bad.

"So you want to go out for a drink tonight?"

"Can't. I'm meeting up with a few of the guys from our regiment. You can join us if you want."

"No, that's all right. You go and enjoy yourself." He knew what it was like going out with a group of people who all knew each other and you didn't. Sort of what it was like around here.

While he had been in England he had dreamed about how he was going to go home and relax and do nothing. He was home and he had done nothing but relax for about fifteen minutes and he was bored. Too bad Goniff wasn't here. Together they had always come up with something to keep them entertained. Damn parole conditions; no contact with known felons. What a stupid idea.

Speaking of parole, he had three days to find a job and get that Parole Officer off his back. He knew that that was going to be the first thing he would ask. 'Got a Job Yet?' He'd give him a job, right in the kisser.

Casino headed out and spent the day looking and asking. No one was hiring. The soldiers who had returned earlier had snapped up the available jobs so all that was left was a job at a used car dealership. Larry Steel, the owner, was as shady as they came. Besides he did not have Actor's gift for the con. He could talk a person into buying the junk on Larry's lot but he couldn't. 'You want thr car, here it is. If not then get lost.' You didn't sell many cars that way. He told Larry he would let him know.

By late afternoon he headed home still unemployed. A quick stop at a bar along the way to see if they needed anyone and for a drink which turned into several drinks. Supper was almost over by the time he got there.

Actor took a cab to the address Craig had given him. The neighborhood was not the worst he had seen but a far cry from his usual haunts. Checking his jacket and straightening his tie he approached the door and knocked. An older lady opened the door and invited him in. Her apartment was small, crowded and smelled of something he could not identify until he saw the bird cage. Mrs. Kovic immediately launched into her standard rules of her boarding house.

"I run a strictly Christian establishment. There is to be no ladies in your room, not even your sister. There is a sitting room across the hall for that and there is no door on it either. No guests in your room after eleven. You may have a radio but if I get any complaints then it goes. Bathroom is at the end of the hall. No cooking in your room. Breakfast is at seven, lunch at twelve and dinner at six. The pantry is locked. Any questions?"

"Just one. Is there access to a telephone?"

"There is one in the sitting room. I may or may not answer it if it rings."

"Thank you, madam. Those conditions are quite satisfactory."

"Rooms are rented by the week, Saturday morning to Friday night. The rent is due Friday, no exceptions. You have paid for the first four weeks."

"Yes, madam."

"And one other thing," she said with a sneer. "Don't try to sweet talk me with your European talk. I was married to one of you people and he was a bum."

If that was the way it worked then Actor could adapt. "Madam," he said as straight laced as he could. "I would not think of sweet talking anyone. When you have received the calling," and he crossed himself, "you put all that behind you."

"Oh," her eyes widened, "a priest."

"Not yet, Madam," and he bowed his humbly.

"I'll show you your room."

His room, by his definition was only a small step up from a cell. Next door to the landlady, it was small and smelled in need of a good airing. It was clean but the faded wallpaper with its tiny pink flowers said old and tired. The bed creaked when he tried it and he wondered if she could hear it in the night. The window was covered with lacy curtains and a roller blind faded yellow with age. When he peaked out all he saw was the alley between the houses. The blind was closed for a reason. Good thing he did not plan on staying here.

He thanked her, accepted the key and she left. Placing his bag on the bed he began unpacking. When he was satisfied he left, locked up and headed to the commercial district. He needed a phone and a bank account.

Later that afternoon he returned to the rooming house with his purchases. After freshening up he went to the dining room for dinner. There were four other guests seated at the table, one woman and three men. The woman, Miss Pinkerton, was in her early thirties but looked to be in her way to spinsterhood from the pinched look on her face. She was a teacher. The men were all older; the youngest looked to be over forty. Actor introduced himself as Victor Denova, not his real name but the one on his conviction and parole. Keeping up the charade he said he had been a teacher in a private school in Italy before the war and would be entering the seminary soon. With him was a bank clerk, an accountant and an insurance salesman. Dinner was quiet. As infuriating as the other cons had been at times he missed their light hearted conversation.

After dinner he saw the other gentlemen head for the sitting room so when they invited him to join them he followed. There they pulled out a card table and asked if he played bridge. He nodded and sat down.

"Have you read any by Ellery Queen?" asked his partner, Mr. Bidderman, the bank clerk.

"No I have not. Is he any good?" answered Actor, the soon to be priest.

"Oh yes. I just finished 'Calamity Town'. I enjoy a good murder mystery. Imagine living a life like that? The intrigue, the mystery. It would be exciting. They have it at the library if you would like to read it."

"I don't do much reading," said the insurance salesman. I have enough with the policies and such. The accountant was silent. Actor wondered if he was calculating the odds or adding up the cards.

In the past Actor would have gladly discussed some of the great novels that he had read but something held him back. He could have told them about his travels but all he did was asked for directions to the library. The insurance salesman tried to interest him in a life insurance policy but it was a half-hearted attempt. To him it was a job but not one he really wanted to do. How dull, thought Actor.

Finally Actor begged off saying he had to get up early. It was not that late but he had had all he could stand of the lack luster conversation. He waited until the others had left then went outside for a walk and to smoke his pipe. What was he doing here in this backwater place? He had suggested Manhattan in hopes there would be some culture, some life. Instead he was living in a rooming house with … That was not fair. They could not help what life had dealt them. Like prison he would do his time, keep his mouth shut and then leave.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**And Then**

He was awakened by the throbbing pain in his leg as usual. Was this the way it was going to be for the rest of his life?

"Bloody 'ell. I survive the whole damn war and then on the last day…" muttered Goniff. He sat up, being careful not to move his leg. The nurse at the Hospital in London had showed him how; pretty young thing she was, so eager to help. She had blushed when he had asked if she would come home with him and help him every morning. Though there was no way the head nurse had heard them she turned and glared causing his nurse to suddenly become all professional.

He reached over and grabbed his pills and the glass of water that his Mom had left for him. Fortunately he had not drank all of it when he had woken in the middle of the night. He popped two pills in his mouth and finished off the water then he lay back and tried to ignore the pain to give the pills a chance to work. Four more weeks in this bloody cast. He couldn't wait to get it off. The Doctor had warned him that his knee would never work right again but a guy could hope. If he worked real hard… He had heard stories about people who were told by the best Doctors that they would never walk again and there they were in the photographs, walking. If they could do it so could he. As the pain eased his optimism began to return.

He was home at last. There were times when they had been deep behind enemy lines when he feared he would never see his Mom or this place but here he was. The words of last night came to him. 'War 'ero', that's what he was now. He was no longer Goniff, the thief; he was Rodney, his Mom's war 'ero. It had felt good to be acknowledged. They had worked bloody hard, risked life and limb… He looked down at his leg all wrapped in plaster. At least it was still there. Casino had told him that the Doctor thought they might have to amputate. He shivered at the thought. He had seen some of the soldiers missing a leg or even both. That was no kind of life. He stopped himself. It was better than no life.

Finally when the pain had subsided to a dull ache he shifted his weight and lowered his foot to the floor. A quick look to the mantle clock… the one he had brought to her the last time he had been in New York, told him that his Mom had already left. The early edition would have been delivered to her news stand half an hour ago. He had slept through her getting up and ready and leaving. He had been tired.

Last night, his leg had hurt like hell but he had enjoyed himself. He wondered if Lionel would hire him to help out. Maybe when his leg was better or if he could sit on a stool behind the bar then he could do that.

Speaking of a job, he had to go see his Parole Officer today. He would have to check the papers Garrison had given him. He was sure about the date but he better check the time and place. Court house probably but he would check. The only money he had was what Garrison had given each of them. He had money in the bank but for a cab he needed cash. He tried to remember where the court house was in relation to this apartment. Could he walk there? If he could then he would have money to buy his Mom some flowers. He pictured the look that would be on her face when he showed up at the stand with a bouquet of flowers for her.

He slid along the couch and reached for the clothes his Mom had laid out for him. This was the hard part; putting on your pants with a cast that went from your hip to the bottom of your foot. His mind flashed to the guys he had seen in the Hospital. He envied the ones with no legs; they did not have this problem. When he realized what he had just done he was ashamed. Here he was with two legs being envious of men with no legs. Having a bum leg was better than not one at all.

Back to the business at hand. Good thing he was agile and flexible. He got the pants on and pulled up to his thighs. He tried leaning back so he could lift his backside to pull them all the way up but could not manage it. If one way doesn't work, try another. He sat back up and reached down to get his crutches but when he tried to lift them the one caught on the couch cushion and he dropped it. Next try he was successful, got them under his arms, stood and zipped his pants. He sat down again and put on his shirt.

Within a minute he heard a soft knock on the door. It opened slowly and he heard a voice.

"Are you all right there? Rodney?" The face of an older gentleman appeared around the door. "Oh, there you are." He stepped into the room. "I heard the thump. I hope you don't mind but your Mom asked me to listen out for you, make sure you were all right. By the way my name's Chuck and I live next door." Chuck had been a big man, a stevedore on the docks for many years but inactivity due to a back injury had seen the muscles go. By watching what he ate he had not gotten fat but the frame was still there.

"'ello Chuck. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry to bother you, I dropped my crutch," he said as he gestured to his walking aides.

"As long as you're all right. Uh, while I'm here… I'm not much in the kitchen but I could fix you a cup of tea and maybe some toast." He grinned as he headed for the kitchen. "I promise I won't burn it too bad."

Rodney did not need someone to fix his breakfast but he did not have the heart to tell him no. Besides he could ask him about the neighborhood. It had been years since he had been home.

Chuck was as good as his word. The toast was lightly toasted with just the right amount of jam. He was also an excellent source of news of the neighborhood. Though he lived on the third floor he spent the majority of his time out front or at the local eatery where his wife worked. He had been forced to retired two years ago but his wife refused and the owner had kept her on. By the time the dishes were washed and left to dry Goniff was up to date. Chuck even went with him in the elevator and out to the curb while regaling his new friend with stories of strange customer. Rodney told a few of his own about the character he had met. As they parted Rodney said he was welcome to drop by anytime, he did not have to wait for him to drop his crutch. Chuck was pleased.

On Chuck's advice Rodney made his way to the bus stop. Within minutes the street car arrived but he had not anticipated the steps. A few awkward attempts and he was about to give up when a young woman came to his aide. Seeing her helping motivated a young man and together they got Goniff onboard. He put his hand in his pocket for the fare and the driver covered the box and asked if he was a soldier. When Goniff nodded he said to go sit, the fare was on him. With a smile of thanks he made his way to the closest seat, beside the young woman who had come to his aide.

Six blocks later he exited the bus and walked to the Court House and the million steps leading to the doors. He sighed in frustration and began the climb. Good foot up on the step, push up, stand, balance and bring crutches up. Good foot up a step, push up, stand, balance and bring the crutches up. One at a time he painfully made his way. His good leg unaccustomed to the added strain of stepping up began to burn. His arm pits hurt and his hands were going to be blistered before long. He paused to give his leg a rest when he heard a voice behind him.

"Can we give you a hand?"

He was dismayed when he turned and the speaker stepped up beside him.

"Well, well, well, look who we got here. If it isn't our good pal Goniff." He grinned an unpleasant grin. "So when'd you get out? Last I heard you were in Sing Sing." Roger Kordic, aka Roger the Rouster, aka Roger the Rooster was an enforcer. If you owed money then expect a visit from The Rouster, sometimes even before it was due.

"You're looking all spiffy," he said snidely as he fingered the lapels of Goniff's jacket. "You come into some money?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "As I recall you owed me some money."

"Hey," said Roger's friend as he grabbed the crutch from Goniff's hand. Fortunately the Englishman was not leaning on it or he would have fallen. "I always wanted to try this," and he used it as he went up the steps. When he reached the top he flung it away and came trotting back.

Goniff was not falling for that. "No. I never borrowed money from you or your friends. I don't owe you anything." He would have liked to add, 'other than the back of my hand or my boot' but he wisely kept that to himself.

Seeing as he was not getting anywhere Roger grabbed the other crutch, eyed it up and down and dropped it. He stood watching as it slid down to the bottom and stopped.

"Guess you don't need our help after all, eh Vidic?" The two men turned and began the long walk up the steps. After several steps they each turned and gave him a smirk.

Goniff rested his bad leg gently on the step. How was he to get there now? He was stranded; he could not go up or down. He looked around but the only people on the steps were ignoring him. They were too busy with their own troubles. The only way he could think of was to get down on his butt and go one step at a time like toddlers do. He would eventually get there but it would be hell on his suit.

Damn. Next person on the steps he was going to ask for help. A cop. Why did the next person have to be a cop? And heading right for him. Blimey, of all the luck.

"Are you lost, son?" asked the patrolman. He used the term 'son' loosely because he could not have been more than a handful of years older than Goniff.

"Uh, I dropped my crutches."

The constable looked and saw the one on the sidewalk and went to retrieve it. "Here you go. You said crutches but I only see one."

"That's all right. Thanks." He made a show of fitting it under his arm hoping the copper would leave but he waited. With his leg aching he needed no other incentive so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pill. The constable left as he tossed two back and swallowed them. He put the pills away and tried to figure out how he was going to get there. He looked up to the Court House doors which were now only half as far away, only half a million steps but he was stuck until a voice called out.

"This yours?"

He was saved. He smiled and yelled an acknowledgement. The man brought the crutch to him and this thanks died in his throat. Of all the people it was the DA who had put him away. He tried to cover the fear. He was mostly successful because he handed it over then took two steps before stopping and turning.

"Do I know you? You look familiar."

Goniff put on his most innocent face and shook his head. He dared not open his mouth. Satisfied the DA turned back and left. Goniff made it up the steps but he was sweating and exhausted by the time he entered the building and made his way to the Parole Office.

His appointment was for eleven AM but it was ten past when he managed to shuffle in the door. The waiting room was small, had three chairs all of them occupied. He stood wishing his pills would kick in. They probably had but with all the exertion they could not keep up with the pain. He took another one. The prescription said 'as needed' and he needed.

His name was called last, probably as a punishment for being late. That was confirmed when the first words out of his Parole Officers mouth was,

"You're late. It is now," and he made a big show of checking, "Eleven forty seven. You're off to a bad start. This appointment should be your main priority not staying up late drinking with your friends, sleeping in, or off wasting your time in a pool hall."

Rodney wanted to say that he had only had a pint and had gone to bed early but kept his mouth shut.

"You have a decision to make. Either you're serious about going straight, then you prove it by showing up ten minutes early. If you are not then one more late appearance and I'll sign the papers to have you returned to prison. You understand me, Mr. Carysfort?"

"Yes, sir. I would 'ave…"

"No excuses. Do you know how many excuses I hear in a day? Day in and day out? I don't accept excuses." He glared at the offender before him to make sure he got the point.

"Now, your file says you are living with your Mother." He looked up from the paper he was reading. "What about a job? You have one?"

"No sir. But as soon as the cast is off I'll be able to do more. For now I will be helping my Mom at her News Stand and I might 'ave a job at The 'are and 'ounds. I met with…"

"What's the Arranounds?" he asked suspiciously. "It's not one of those girly places?" His lip curled in disgust.

"No sir. It's a pub, ah, a bar."

"A bar? No. You are not to be working at a bar with all that alcohol and unsavory characters."

"Sir, it's an English Pub. The patrons are all older people who came over to live 'ere. If you stop by some…"

"What? You think I have nothing better to do with my time than to check out bars? No. No working at a bar.

"Where's this News Paper Stand?"

Goniff explained and the Officer sat staring at him. Finally he asked, "And why would she hire you?"

That stopped him. "She's me Mom. She always said we'd work there together." He tried to sound confident and he had been but the seeds of doubt just sown had sprouted. Mom had said that in the past but she hadn't said anything about it this time. Had she changed her mind?

"Your Mother? You're her son?" Goniff nodded so he snorted. "Who would have thought?" He turned serious. "You better not be lying because that I will check on seeing as I get my paper there every morning."

"I'll personally 'ave it ready for you." Did he know about Mom's bookmaking? What would he do if he found out?

"All right. If there's nothing else, get out of my office." Goniff struggled to stand and get his crutches in position. He got to the door and heard, "And don't be late next time."

Goniff half turned and clutching the crutch with his elbow he gave a semblance of a salute.

Going down the steps on crutches was the equivalent of the obstacle course they used to have to run. This one lacked only the bullets flying overhead. Like the course he survived this one too but he was tired. The street car arrived and he had to ask for assistance to board but he managed. His original plan was to stop at the florist to by flowers but the thought of maneuvering up and down the steps again was more than his body was up for so he cancelled that idea. Flowers tomorrow. Instead he got off as close as he could to his mom's business and walked over. Fortunately she had a stool where he sat until it was time to go home.

He took another pill to dull the pain of the trip home and two at bedtime to help him sleep. He was going to have to get more pills soon.

The next morning everyone greeted Casino and life went on in the household.

"Ana, what time do have to be there tonight?" asked Mama as she put a plate of toast on the table.

"She said seven but they're never ready." Ana was a beauty like her mother, tall, slim with dark hair and eyes. She had married her highschool sweetheart just before he had enlisted. He died on the beach at Normandy the same day their son had been born. She had named him Norman after his father.

"It does not matter. You be on time."

"You going out somewhere?" asked Casino. Maybe he could go with them.

"Baby sitting," was all she said as she grabbed a piece of toast and hurried out of the room.

Rebeca sat quietly eating her breakfast as the matriarch tottered into the room. They all welcomed her as she sat down. Her daughter placed her breakfast before her and she ate after saying a silent blessing.

"Rebeca, please take that plate back to..."

"I don't have time." Rebeca took after her father's side. She was short and was going to be heavy if she was not careful. Her hair was a lighter brown and her eyes were hazel. She was considered pretty as were all the girls, you just had to get her face out of what ever book she was currently devouring.

"Eat a little faster and you will."

"Mama," she whined.

Casino opened his mouth to admonish her but their Mother beat him to it.

"As I recall you were the first to help youself so you can return the plate."

"And tell her they were delicious," threw in Julio who ambled into the room. The baby of the family even though he was fifteen now, was also the peacemaker. Gregorio, three years older and dark like their mother followed behind him. He was the quiet one.

Casino wondered what she had made but the moment was lost when Dores arrived insisting that she was late and needed bus fare.

Seeing his chance Casino grabbed his wallet and offered to walk her to the stop.

"Thanks Tony," as she held out her hand, "But Jay's walking me." Dores was short like her younger sister Rebeca but she was thin like her mother. Beca was the smart one, Dores the funny one.

"Jay?" he questioned his Mother but she just shrugged. He almost said she was too young for boys but caught himself. He had been gone a long time. Quick arithmatic in his head, shit, she was twenty. The conversations flowed with everyone knowing the references to previous conversations and events, all excet Casino. They talked to him as well but he felt left out. Finally the bustle slowed and he was left at the table with Nicodemo. Nicky had put aside his uniform while he was home. Time enough for that when he returned to the base.

"Coreen been around or you planning to surprise her." She was his steady girl. Probably going to ask her to marry him, thought Casino.

"Didn't you hear? She Dear Johned me," he said bitterly.

"She what? Is she nuts?" Nicky was a very handsome man.

"She met someone else while I was away."

"Her loss. That why you decided to stay in the Army?"

"Partly and it's a job."

Casino snorted. Now that the war was over it wouldn't be so bad.

"So you want to go out for a drink tonight?"

"Can't. I'm meeting up with a few of the guys from our regiment. You can join us if you want."

"No, that's all right. You go and enjoy yourself." He knew what it was like going out with a group of people who all knew each other and you didn't. Sort of what it was like around here.

While he had been in England he had dreamed about how he was going to go home and relax and do nothing. He was home and he had done nothing but relax for about fifteen minutes and he was bored. Too bad Goniff wasn't here. Together they had always come up with something to keep them entertained. Damn parole conditions; no contact with known felons. What a stupid idea.

Speaking of parole, he had three days to find a job and get that Parole Officer off his back. He knew that that was going to be the first thing he would ask. 'Got a Job Yet?' He'd give him a job, right in the kisser.

Casino headed out and spent the day looking and asking. No one was hiring. The soldiers who had returned earlier had snapped up the available jobs so all that was left was a job at a used car dealership. Larry Steel, the owner, was as shady as they came. Besides he did not have Actor's gift for the con. The con man could talk a person into buying the junk on Larry's lot but he couldn't. 'You want the car, here it is. If not then get lost.' You didn't sell many cars that way. He told Larry he would let him know.

By late afternoon he headed home still unemployed. A quick stop at a bar along the way to see if they needed anyone and for a drink which turned into several drinks. Supper was almost over by the time he got there.

The next day started out better. His grandmother was out of cigarettes so he bought her another pack and they sat on the steps and smoked as she told him stories of her youth back in Spain. Most of the stories he had heard many times but they brought back good memories of his youth before he got into trouble. Finally she returned to her room for a nap and Casino headed out on his search again.

His day ended the same as the last with no job and a few drinks. He managed to avoid a fight only because the other man stood up to take a swing and promptly passed out. Casino still had enough wits about him to realize he had better get going. An arrest for assault would not look good on his record. He was going straight!

Eager to make a good impression, though it burned him to be dancing to a court officials tune he showed up for his appointment fifteen minutes early. Expecting a surly official drunk on his power he was surprised to see a small man sitting behind the desk. Mr. Wilks did not make him sit there while he read his file but started right in asking how he was getting along. Casino explained about his on going job search. This earned him a nod and a smile. This was going well, he thought until Mr Wilks suggested he check the grocery stores. Some hired delivery boys or people to bag groceries. Casino almost exploded. Bagging groceries? Him? but he managed to hold his tongue and he promised to keep that in mind.

On his way home he passed by old Pop Freeman's shop. He had been walking past this place for years, never bothering to pay attention. Vacuum cleaners were never a concern of his. Today Pop was lugging a cardboard box out to the curb. Lugging was the correct term not because the box was particularily big but because Pop was small. He measured five feet tall if he stretched and weighed one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet but in that body was a good heart. That was why he never prospered in business, he survived but that was all. Instead of cash he often took things in trade. The contents of the box were the results of one of those trades. Casino threw out a greeting as he passed but out of habit he glanced in the box and stopped.

"Whatcha got there?"

"It's an old radio. Thought I could get it to work but no luck and I have no room to keep it. Out it goes. Why? You want it?"

Casino knew the way he worked. He could just say no and walk away then come back later and get it or he could trade. "I don't know much about radioes but I'll make you a deal." Pops looked interested. "You give me that box of junk and if I fix it then you give me a job."

"You're a good boy, Tony and you could probably fix it but I have no money to pay you. I barely make ends meet as it is."

"Tell you what. I fix it, give it to you and I come work for free until I find something else."

"Why would you work for free?" asked Pops. "What's in it for you? You're not planning to..."

"Pops," said Casino with a freindly grin. "I'm through with that life." He turned serious and stepped in closer. "I'm on parole and I need a job. Nowhere does it say I have to get paid, just have a job. Will you do it?" Maybe this was the answer to his problem.

"And all I have to do is let you say you work for me? No money?"

"Some times a Parole Officer checks up on a guy; goes to where they say they work. Some guy shows up and asks and you say, 'Sure, Tony works for me. Good worker.' Easy."

"And if he asks where you are?"

"If I'm not there you tell'm I picking up parts or delivering a vacuum. Just make it believable. Better yet. We'll pick a destination so if he asks before I talk to you then we agree. Good?"

"I won't get into trouble with the law will I?"

"Nah. You don't tell, I won't tell. Who's to know."

"All right. You got tools at home? To fix that?" he asked gesturing at the radio.

"No, but I'll find some." This was going to work. Hopefully he could get the radio to work too.

"Here," and he thrust the box at Casino. "Take it inside. There's tool on the bench in back. I have to go see to a vacuum down the street." With that he turned and left leaving Casino standing in the street wondering what just happened.

It took him most of the day and two phone calls to locate a tube tester and replacements. When Pops returned he set out to pick up the parts. By dinner time the radio was working though the first sounds he heard gave him a scare. The voice sounded like Axis Annie. It wasn't but it took a minute for his heart to slow to normal.

Casino walked home light hearted. He had fixed the radio and he had a job. A short detour to pick up a bottle and he went home.

The next day Actor set out again right after breakfast. When asked he said he had to study so he went to the Library then slipped out the back way and went about his business. He took to checking to see if he was being tailed. He never was but he could not stop.

Mr. Denova's Parole Officer was an older man who had seen it all. He was prepared for a con artist and might have been pleased that Actor did not try to put anything past him, though he would never say so. Actor told the truth about his lodgings and his search for a legitimate job. On his return to the Library he thought he saw a familiar face but when he looked closer he saw it was not the German Colonel that had had him beaten but just an older man who looked similar.

He had missed lunch so he stopped at a restaurant. The waitress took his order but when she returned she lingered.

"I haven't seen you in here before. Are you new in town?"

Something in the way she said it reminded him of a code phrase Garrison had used once. The thought that she was an agent came to mind but he dismissed it. The war was over and he was home. There was no need for intrigue.

'Don't be ridiculous,' he admonished himself. That road leads to madness. He smiled at her and said yes.

"Do you like to go to the movies?"

Actor was not used to the modern American woman who would be so bold and he was flattered but the spy image was too fresh and he declined politely saying his fiancé preferred the opera. She said nothing and moved away to clear another table and wipe the counter. Minutes later she brought his order and he ate in silence.

Victor enjoyed his own company. He was quite capable of entertaining himself but he found he missed his life in England. Those annoying childish antics of the others that he could not wait to be away from now left a hole in his life. The quiet reserve of both Craig and Chief had been like a balm to the disruptions of war. He was like a boat with Casino and Goniff the teasing winds that blew one way and then another keeping him on his toes. Craig and Chief had been his rudder and anchor. They were all gone and he was adrift. He would make his own way as he had before but he felt lonely. What were they doing now? Did they miss him as he missed them? How was the Major? Did he miss the excitement, the challenge? Probably not. Teaching was probably challenging enough.

Actor felt bereft. Actor felt bereft. Maybe if he found a job it would give him purpose and satisfy his parole. What could he do that was legitimate? What did he enjoy doing? He headed for the art galleries and museums. It took three days but he managed to get himself hired at a small museum. He had taken the tour, memorized the speech and with only a little name dropping he was hired. From here he would move up.

He wondered if this was the right move within hours of donning the staff jacket. The first tour was going well. He explained a little of the history of each piece as they proceeded. With a little research he was able to add to the script he had been given. As he finished he asked if there were any questions and a voice beside him spoke up. The problem was that the voice had a thick German accent. He flashed back to the mission where they had to find the microfilm in a Holland Museum about to be looted by the Nazi's. Fortunately he was able to cover his reaction and answer civilly. As the people dispersed he could not help watching the German couple as they wandered around and then finally left. Not content with his own explanation that they were just tourists, he following them outside and down the street until they caught a taxi and he was forced to return to the Museum. He could not shake the feeling they were going to rob the place. Fortunately he could not bring himself to tell the Director his suspicions in case he was in on it. Instead he remained outside and smoked his pipe in an attempt to relax for the next tour.

Craig's two week furlough began on a happy note. He was home again with his family and his friends. There were welcome home parties and get-togethers. At first it was wonderful. No reports, no check-ins, no arguments to mediate; just peace and quiet. He planned on visiting and sleeping. The first went well but not the second. Sometimes he fell asleep right away but woke up a few hours later, wide awake. Other nights he couldn't get to sleep because his mind was too busy or he couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something. He put it down to a strange bed but that wasn't it.

The third sleepless night he got up and went outside to sit in the dark. He did up the top button to keep out the chill and stuffed his hands in his pockets. A cigarette would go well right now but he would have to wait until he went inside.

He pulled himself up short. Inside? Why would he have to smoke inside? Because snipers watched for the flair of a match or the glow of a cigarette. There were NO Snipers here. The war was over and he was safe to do as he pleased here. He could smoke if he wanted.

But he didn't. He sat and thought about what he was doing out here in the dark alone.

Alone.

Here he was surrounded with friends and family but he felt alone. No one really understood how he felt. For them the war was over. It wasn't for him. The images were still there. The feelings, the stress, the anxiety were still there. He didn't know what to do with it. He didn't know how to stop it. There was no one who understood. The ones who did were gone.

He imagined Actor sitting beside him. He imagined the others sitting just off to the side. They had worked well together and now they were gone. Not gone just moved on to other lives. Wasn't that what he had wanted for them? He had been so pleased to see them get their paroles. They were happy, excited. Sure, they said they'd miss the others but they were happy to be going.

In the distance he saw a glow and his immediate thought was bombs. Then the headlights of the approaching car crested the hill and began to approach. In his mind he envisioned the nights he had sat outside either on watch or at their base at the English Estate. Nights on watch were usually quiet with the possibility of danger. There was no danger here. The worst that could happen here was getting bitten by a mosquito. Then why couldn't he relax? He used to love sitting out here in the dark before the war. Eventually he gave up and went inside.

Being unable to relax Craig told his parents that he was leaving early so he would have time to drop in on some friends on his way to West Point. They were disappointed but they said they understood. They had noticed his unease but no one mentioned it. Maybe it was the thought of his new responsibilities that came with his upcoming promotion. Instead he spent a few nights at hotels along the way. The anonymity seemed to help. Each place he used a different name. Sometimes he even used names he had used behind enemy lines. That just felt right. He thought of dropping in on his old team but they were getting on with their lives. Though he had conned the enemy many times he did not think he could con his own men into believing he was just checking up on them. He feared they would see through him and see his doubts and fears and his need. They did not need to see that. He by-passed New York on his way to West Point.

He had managed to keep positive about his men until he was passing through a section of road where the trees grew tall on both sides of the road. Chief came unbidden to his mind. Where was he? The guilt he had managed to supress leaked out. Chief was injured just like they all were. His injuries were inside where you couldn't see them. Where had he gone? Why had he taken off? Then the worst thought; was he even alive? He had been so miserable on the ship. He hadn't…? No! Chief wouldn't. He had too much to live for, or did he?

Sadly he thought of the Indian's life. He had arrived with nothing. Once he became comfortable he had become a part of the team. He tried to envision their reactions to going home. Had Chief been really happy? Goniff and Casino had been. Actor had a twinkle in his eye that said he was up for the adventure. He recalled Chief smiling but was he really happy? Damn, he thought, I wish I had paid more attention. Even so he had invited Chief to come with him. Had he sounded serious enough? Chief always saw through lies and insincerities.

Chief, where are you?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Visits

Once at West Point he received his promotion. Major Craig Garrison was given an office and an aide named Sargent Makey. Craig threw himself into his new duties, including learning what he was supposed to teach, learning cadets and soldiers names, their strengths and their weaknesses. Any time not spent studying, reading files, teaching or training was spent pushing himself to run farther and faster and lift heavier weights. There was no time to contemplate and sleep came from exhaustion.

Months later

Lieutenant Colonel Garrison walked into his office, hung up his cap and sat. For a moment he just sat back and closed his eyes. His rise through the ranks had stalled during the war when so many others had excelled but was back on track at wars end. This last promotion had been unexpected and had saddened him. Colonel Hasselford had been a good officer and a friend. He and Garrison had hit it off right at the start so his sudden death had been a shock. Because the two had worked together he had been given the promotion and work load. In the past three weeks he had toured six Military bases all the while trying to assist his replacement and now had a report to write. It had been a hectic trip but a profitable one. He had learned a lot and changed a few minds about certain covert tactics. His experiences with his unusual teams were still paying off.

He briefly wondered how they were doing but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. He opened his eyes and turned his mind back to the business at hand as his aide came into the room bringing a folder of papers.

"How was your trip, Sir?"

Sargent Makey was a good man, very organized and always in the know. Just where he got some of his information Craig was not sure but his abilities brought Actor to mind. He never did find out how the con man had gotten his dossier.

"It was good. I'm glad to be back. What's new and exciting here?"

"Just the usual here but something is going on."

"Oh?" The Sargent looked pensive. Not a good sign.

"You had two phone calls while you were out." He opened the folder and took out a piece of paper. "The first was from a foreign woman. She didn't leave her name but she sounded Mexican. Said she had to talk to you and only you. Said she would call back later but she hasn't called yet." He placed the sheet containing time, date and message in front of his commanding officer. "The second call was also from a woman but English. Not your lord and lady English but like regular folk. Now the really odd thing was she was looking for a General Garrison. Switchboard put her through here. She was quite insistent that she wanted the General, that," he checked the next sheet of paper, "her 'Rodney 'ad told 'er that 'e worked for a General'."

That caught his attention. An English woman and a Rodney? That had to be Goniff's mom. But why was she calling. There had to be trouble.

"She leave a number?"

Makey put the paper on his desk with the other. "You recognize her?"

"Maybe," he said as he scanned the details and found the number. "Anything else?"

"Just the usual. They're all here." He placed the folder next to the two other sheets. "Though Colonel Potter seems anxious to have lunch to discuss a certain matter."

Craig smiled. That was Colonel Spencer Potter's code for I got a new girlfriend and I want to tell you about her. The man was good at his job and an entertaining lunch companion. He would all him later. After the Sargent left he picked up the phone and called the English woman's number.

"'allo Mom, 'ere."

"Hello, Mrs. Carysfort?"

"Yes. 'oo's this?"

"General Garrison." He had not been sure how to answer that question but as soon as she asked it came to his lips.

"General Garrison," she gushed then turned serious. "There's something that I am worried about but I don't know 'oo to ask. I don't want Rodney to get into any trouble. 'E's trying so 'ard to be good and I want him to succeed."

"What is it Mrs. Carysfort."

"Call me Mom. All my friends do. Well, you see the trouble is 'is leg. It pains 'im and 'e 'as to take these pills but the pills, they aren't working so good and 'e 'as to take more to get the pain to stop. 'E seems to be taking an awful lot and when 'e ran out 'e was in 'orrible shape 'til I got 'is prescription filled. I'm worried about 'im. 'E's a good boy and I don't want 'im to go back to prison. I was 'oping you could 'elp 'im." She paused and he thought she was finished but she added a quiet, "'E also 'as these dreadful nightmare that 'e won't talk about. "'E never had that before. Do you think it might be from the pills or from when 'e 'urt 'is leg?"

"I don't know, Mrs. uh, Mom. Is Rodney still living with you?"

"Yes. 'E offered to leave but I told 'im I wanted 'im to stay. Besides," he heard the sound of paper shuffling and a distant 'thank you', "'is Parole Officer seemed to like 'e was with me. Can you come round and talk to 'im. See if 'e'll talk to you. 'E'll talk about anything else but not what's bothering 'im."

"Yes. I am not sure when I can get there but I will come as soon as I can. Thank you for calling me and letting me know. Does he know you called?"

A very guilty, "No. I thought he might say not to but I'm worried about him."

"Well I will see what I can do and I won't tell him."

"I knew you'd come through. My Rodney has good instincts about people. If 'e trusts someone then they're a good person. Thank you General."

As Craig hung up the phone he was glad she had not asked about the disparity in rank.

Lieutenant Colonel Garrison sat back and considered what he had heard. Goniff was in trouble but it wasn't the kind of trouble he had expected. He felt a twinge of guilt that he had expected him to be the one to slip and end up in jail. Instead it was his injury that was causing the problem. How could he help him? Was there a doctor out there that could do something with his knee to relieve the pain? Who could he ask?

Unfortunately even Lieutenant Colonels had to jump when ordered. Less than a minute later his intercom buzzed, he got the message and was up and out the door. It was almost three days later when he had time to think about the phone call. Returning to his office he was informed that the Mexican mystery woman had called again and again left no message but the ever alert Sargent had heard what sounded like yelling in the background.

"All I could make out was something about a C note. You know something about someone owes money? Or deals in money?"

Garrison shook his head. Something was niggling the back of his brain. As much as he wanted to pursue it the Army had business that it deemed urgent so he put his worry aside. When the last class was finished he headed to his quarters. He had twenty minutes before he was to meet with the General so he showered and shaved. At some point he was going to have to get to New York City to see Goniff, eh, Rodney. As soon as he had a date he would contact the others as well and maybe squeeze in a visit with each one.

One week later he got his chance. His first phone call was to Rodney. He dialed Mom's number and he answered.

"Hello Goniff." Old habits and names never die, "Or should I say, Rodney? How are you?"

"Warden? Is that you?" Hardly a pause then the transplanted Englishman grinned. "'ow are you? I'm doing fine. It's good to 'ear from you. 'ow's West Point? You still with the Army?"

"Yes," Craig could not help the grin on his own face. "I'm still with the Army. I have to be in the city next Thursday and thought I'd drop by and say hello. You going to be around?"

"Sure, for you anything. What time you expect to be 'ere?"

The two men exchanged information on the when and where.

Next Craig dialed Casino's number. He had had to dig out the old files for the contact information. Guerra, Faustino, aka Tony.

"Allo?" It was a woman's voice.

Craig identified himself but there was no recognition. He then asked for Tony but was told he was not there and they did not know when he would be back. For most people there could be a reasonable answer but for Casino it was disconcerting. The biggest possibility was that he was on a job or on the lam. Or in prison.

There was nothing he could do so Craig said he would call back later. Just before the other party disconnected he thought he heard a voice in the background speak in what he thought was Spanish. He paused with the receiver still in his hand. Spanish? Mexican? Could this be the number who called earlier? It was not the same person but maybe someone in the household. The voice that answered was not old enough to be his mother. Maybe his Mother had called. Could Casino's mother be the Mystery Mexican Caller? He had not thought to ask his aide the age of the caller. Of course you did not ask the age of the caller especially a woman but the Sargent could have estimated.

Casino's Mother was Spanish. In the initial interview Casino had been quick to point out that he was Spanish and Portuguese not Italian. The only Italian he knew he learned in the joint from a cellmate. That was it. Casino. C note. Ca C note. The mystery caller had to one of his family. If it was then why had she called? Casino had to be in trouble. Damn. Craig noted the address in his file. Hopefully he could find out what had happened when he got there.

The third call was to the number of the boarding house where Victor Denova had been given a room. There was no answer. That did not guarantee trouble though after the signs on Casino's end he was concerned. He assumed there would be always be someone there to answer but there was no rule saying there had to be. The other possibility was that he had moved. As long as he told his Parole Officer then that was legal. The only way was to go there and ask, or ask his Parole Officer. Would his Parole Officer tell him? If he worded it to sound official then maybe he could find out where he was. He was going to be in town so he wanted to see each of his men.

Fortunately the English Sargent Major had included all the information in the men's files so the Parole Officers' names were there as well. To make it sound even more official he had Sargent Makey place the call and then put him through. Lieutenant Colonel Garrison informed the court officer that he was trying to contact Mr. Victor Denova and was he still at the last address. When asked what this was about Garrison informed him that it was classified but the Army required Mr. Denova's assistance once again. That did the trick. Yes the address and the phone number were still the same and Mr. Denova was abiding with the requirements the court had laid down. Garrison thanked him and rang off. At least that was good news. Craig wondered what the Sargent would make of this development.

The Lieutenant Colonel took off his cap as he entered the restaurant. It was a small place, not fancy but he had been assured that the food was good. Quickly scanning the tables he was alerted to his destination by a blonde man with his arm in the air. With quiet efficiency he made his way to the table at the back.

"'ey Warden. Blimey look at you," said Goniff as he struggled to get his crutches in place.

"Sit down, Rodney. You don't have to stand."

"It's just," he said as he replaced the crutches by his side, "the way you look with all that 'ardware and medals and such. You look like you should be saluted. I guess you get a lot of that at West Point, don't you."

"Yes," he said as he pulled out the chair and sat down. "How've you been?" He did not want to say he looked good because unless the light was unflattering in here Goniff did not look well. Even his fair skin looked even paler and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

"I've been better." He looked pained. "Cast comes off soon. It'll be better then. I'll be able to get around. Maybe use that cane Actor got for me. Doc says my knee is shot, that I'll never…"His voice faded off with the words he could not say. Then with forced brightness he changed the subject. "So 'ow you getting along at The Point? Your students as good as we were?" Then with a Goniff grin, "Or as bad?"

Garrison caught the ruse. Even without the visual signals all was not well with Goniff. He wanted to but was resisting telling the truth about what was bothering him. Craig had insisted they always be honest with him and with each other. It had originally started with Chief when he had kept his injury to himself, endangering all their lives. From there he had spread it to the others. No lies, No secrets between them. When your life depended on someone then there was no room for anything but truth.

"There's no comparison." It was the truth but this answer could be interpreted either way. Craig wanted to see how the Englishman would interpret it.

"I guess we'll just 'ave to get back together and show those blokes 'ow it's done. Right Colonel?" He almost sounded hopeful. The look on his face definitely was hopeful.

"I thought you were glad to get out; couldn't wait to go home." He said it lightheartedly.

"It's not like I thought," he said quietly. There was pain in his voice.

Garrison waited but the waitress arrived at their table. She took their orders and bustled away.

Rodney sat quietly and Garrison feared that the moment had been lost. He had to get him back.

"You're not happy at home?"

"Oh, no, it's not that," he said eager to defend his Mom. "My Mom's great. She 'elps all she can," then he looked around to make sure he would not be overheard then leaned in a little closer, "but she can only do so much. It not that I need anything… I just… I can't talk to 'er about what's… He looked down clearly frustrated and embarrassed.

"The nightmares?" The look of relief was his answer.

"You too?" he asked desperate for confirmation that he was not alone.

Garrison, the cool confident Lieutenant Colonel, would never admit to that kind of weakness. If he did then his men would lose their respect for him. He covered with a misdirection worthy of Actor.

"I've heard from other veterans."

"The other guys?"

Garrison smiled warmly. "I came to see you first."

"Oh." Being the first on the list eased some of his disappointment. It would have been better if… That was ridiculous. The Warden was too good a soldier to ever have nightmares about what they had seen and done but it did help that he was not the only one.

"And these other veterans did they 'ave trouble with the pills the Croaker gave them? The ones he give me don't work as good. I think 'es cheating me. I 'ad to go to another doctor to get more. The pain gets so bad. I just 'ope I can last 'til my Parole's done so I can ask Lionel for a job at the pub. I know 'e'll 'ire me. I need the money for the pills.

"Lionel?"

Goniff told his friend about his first night home and the trip to the pub. He told him how he had really liked it; the feeling of belonging, being needed and would love to work there but his Parole Officer had scuppered that idea. He then went on to talk about some of the characters he had met at the news stand.

When they had each finished their meal Garrison paid then helped his former team mate to stand and they walked to the curb. Garrison flagged a cab and they departed. Their next stop was the news stand where Goniff introduced his Mother to the 'General'. She was pleased and impressed with how young and good looking he was though she made sure to let Rodney know, not as good looking as her son.

Next stop was Brooklyn and a place called Freeman's Vacuums and Washing machines. Selling vacuums was not what he had expected from Casino but a job was a job. The cab dropped him at the door. It was a small shop with several vacuums and a wringer washer in the window. A hand lettered sign in the corner of the window announced that small appliance repair was also available. When he went in he was greeted by an older man who greeted him warmly.

"Hello there, Colonel. Thinking of buying the Mrs. a new labour saving appliance? I have an excellent selection right here."

"No thank you. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Garrison." There was no recognition at the name. "I'm here to see Mr. Solari."

"Uh, he's just making a delivery. Should be back soon. I could have him call you when he gets in," he suggested helpfully.

Having lived and worked with professional prevaricators for two years Craig was adept at reading them. He knew this was a lie though it had been delivered well. He had two options, wait or try his home. He decided to apply some pressure.

"I'll wait," he said as he walked towards the window. Unfortunately the lighting was wrong to be able to see Mr. Freeman's reflection in the glass so he turned sideways, looking up the street as well as keeping an eye on the man from the corner of his eye.

"So, Mr. Solari makes deliveries for you?"

"Oh yes." He sounded eager to please. "He goes and picks up the machines and parts. He is very helpful. Good worker."

On a hunch he asked, "He do the small repairs too?"

"Yes. That was his idea. He's fixed only one radio so far but it's still early yet. People have to hear about it first. I hope to get a bigger sign soon."

From the looks of the store it was not busy which meant Casino was under-employed which meant he could be tempted back to his old occupation. This did not look good. Minutes later Casino arrived. Garrison had been waiting and watching so he caught the momentary look of confusion that he saw before it was covered by a forced happiness. Casino had forgotten he was coming.

"Warden. Good to see you. Mr. Freeman. This here's Colonel Garrison. He was my CO during the war."

Assuming they would like privacy Mr. Freeman told Casino that he wasn't busy so he could take a break. The two men stepped out into the street. Casino suggested they go for a drink but Garrison could smell the alcohol on his breath. He suggested they walk.

"How are you? You getting along all right?"

"Yeah." He sounded defeated. "Pops took pity on me and lets me hang around. I help'm out where I can. Don't tell my Parole but he doesn't even pay me. I couldn't find a job. I thought I could be a bouncer or a bar tender but when there's a lot of noise I have trouble hearing. Damn. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Your family helping you?"

"Yeah. They try but they don't understand. There was a guy three doors down. Infantry." Casino's voice broke and he looked away, ashamed. "He shot himself. He took the easy way out."

Craig knew where this was going.

"And you think of doing the same?"

"No," he answered with conviction. "That's a sin. It's just…"

"It's called Battle Fatigue."

"But the war's over and besides we weren't in the fighting like Luke was? He landed on the beaches at Normandy and fought all across France. He even got a Purple Heart." Casino frowned and shook his head. "We didn't do nothing like that."

"No we just parachuted behind enemy lines with no back up, walked into the enemy's hands slapped him in the face, stole his secrets and walked out, sometimes shooting and killing as we went."

"Yeah, well when you put it like that… We did have some rough missions."

"And after a rough one, what did we do?" Casino looked puzzled so Craig answered.

"We went on another one."

Casino smiled sadly and said, "And another one and another one." He took a deep breath and sighed.

"And now, it's over. Why can't I forget it? Why do I hear artillery in the distance? Why do I hear 'Hande Hoch and German accents? Why do I wake up at night thinking the house is falling on me?"

"You need someone to talk to."

"I can't. No one understands. I tried talking to Arnie but he yells and tells me to fuck off." His voice rose in agitation. "He says he wasn't there. But he was. He was a navigator. He was in the Air Force. Had his plane shot down over Germany. He was a POW for God's sakes. He **was** there!"

"Casino," said Craig gently and watched as his team member visibly calmed before he continued.

"It doesn't help that some of the kids ask what I did over there and I can't tell them. I told them it was a secret but they didn't believe me. Said the war was over and we won so I made up stuff." His voice expressed his anguish. "I lied to them. You don't lie to kids."

Craig understood all too well. He had been lied to as a kid and he had never forgotten it. He also understood Casino's pain on a personal level. He was just better at covering. Besides he had the Army. Casino had no one.

Craig reached out and pulled the other man close wrapping him in a hug then said quietly.

"Let me see what I can do." He released him, stepped back and peered into his face. "Can you hold on?"

Casino's eyes were wet and almost spilled over as he nodded slowly. "Thanks Warden. Thanks for caring. And Warden, I'm going straight. No trouble with the law, no matter what. I swear," he said solemnly.

"I believe you. I trust you. I just need you to hang on until I can find some way to help."

Casino smiled a lopsided sad smile. "Just knowing you care, helps. Thanks, Warden." He stood straighter. "Thanks Colonel. But I'm still not saluting you," he added with a grin. It was matched.

Logistically it would have made sense to visit Actor in Manhattan before going to Brooklyn but he wanted to see Actor last. Actor was a rock. He was the epitome of strength; nothing they had done on their forays behind enemy lines had ever fazed him. He expected to see the old Actor. He might even be able to suggest a solution for the others.

The address he got from the Parole Officer was a museum and gallery tucked away on a side street. Craig was not sure but once inside he saw the quality was very good. A man appeared from around a door in the back and approached. It was Actor and he was smiling warmly. The two men shook hands then stepped into a hug.

Victor eyed the new insignia. "I thought Major was gold leaves."

"It is. Silver is Lieutenant Colonel."

Victor's face lit up. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel Garrison. Well Done." Then a little sadly he added, "Our presence was obviously what was holding you back."

"No. In fact it is my experience with you, what you taught me, that has contributed to my success. I owe it to you, especially you. Thank you."

Fortunately the gallery was empty so they were able to wander and talk without being overheard. Victor explained his job and touched lightly on his living arrangements. Craig could not help notice the furtive glances as they moved to the next room. It was as if he expected someone to be there. He still kept his voice lowered.

They talked but by the end Craig had an odd feeling and instead of asking for advice he asked Victor one more question.

"Are you happy?"

There was stunned silence. "Happy?"

"Once your Parole is completed, what're your plans?"

The look was fear/suspicion. "Why do you ask?"

Craig tried to ease his concern with a smile. "Just wondering. I wasn't sure if you had plans to go back to Europe." It was not working. The suspicion had eased but was still lingering. "I was hoping to stay in touch."

"I had not thought past my Parole." That was a lie and they both knew it.

Craig chose to ignore it. If the Italian had decided not to confide in him there was nothing he could do about it. It saddened him to think he was losing his friend. Writing was a way to stay in touch when you were a continent away but it was so easy to lose.

They said their good byes and Craig left. As he sat in the cab he realized that even Actor was in trouble and needed help. Not that he had come right out and asked but Craig knew him well enough to hear what he had not said. He needed help.

He had hoped to have some good news from this trip but each visit brought only troubling news. His men were in trouble. Even though they were no longer his responsibility he couldn't just turn his back on them. They had worked for him, worked hard. They had worked together as a team to accomplish some tricky mission. No matter what he was given they worked it, discussed it and hammered away at it until they figured out a way it could be done and then they had done it.

And he got the glory, the promotion, and the ribbons. Now they needed help and he was the only one who understood but what could he do? How could he help them? The only way he could come up with would land them all back in prison. What would help them was illegal and in spite of himself or maybe it was because he really did identify with his men he began considering how he could go about it. That was how he, Lieutenant Colonel Craig Garrison, a West Point Graduate where honour was part of the code, ended up in court before a judge.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

A Court Date

Lieutenant Colonel Garrison stood before the court. After stating his name, rank and serial number he began.

"You have been given the files of the men who, in exchange of working for the Army on the war effort, were promised a parole. Each of these men worked for me. They worked hard and with no thanks to the Nazi soldiers, they survived. Each file includes the report from their Parole Officer. As you can see, they have adhered to every condition set out."

"Yes, I can read. So why are you here?" Judge Harry McCormick was approaching seventy and over the years he had become used to having his way in his court and resented anyone bothering him with trivialities or questioning his orders.

"One of the conditions of their parole was to have no contact with any known felons."

"Yes," said the judge, obviously bored by this stating of facts. "That is a standard condition to keep them from getting caught up in further criminal activity." Then he added snidely, "Criminals do discus their plans for illegal activity and often seek out others with similar experience. We frown on that."

"I would like you to remove that condition for these three men."

"And why, pray tell, would I do that?" he asked sarcastically.

"I have remained in touch with these men. They are trying to adjust to their new lives, which under normal circumstances they would be successful at but because of what they were involved with during the war, they need someone to talk to."

"You say you are in contact, let them talk to you, or," and he added false brightness as if this was a new idea, "talk to their priest or minister." His voice returned to gruff. "So what has this to do with the no contact provision?"

'If you would quit interrupting I'll tell you,' thought Garrison. Instead he said, "I am often in the field and am unavailable."

"What about their Parole Officer, their families, new friends? There are lots of people out there," suggested the judge, raising his bushy white eyebrows to show how serious he was.

"What these men did and where they went is classified. They were sworn to secrecy and cannot talk about to anyone with proper clearance. What they need is to be able to talk to each other. They need to see that they are not alone with their fears, their worries. They understand each other; they can help each other."

"Are you saying," he said scornfully, "I shouldn't be concerned that they will pool their talents and pull off a bank robbery or some other criminal act? They do have a history of that sort of activity."

"No. I spoke extensively with each of the three and each said the same thing. They want to go straight. They do not want their old careers back. In fact Rodney Carysfort, former thief, is now crippled and Faustino Solari has a hearing loss that prevents him from hearing the tumblers. Victor Denova is also crippled. They are no longer a threat to society even if they pooled their talents."

"You stake your career on that?"

"They had my life in their hands more times than I can count. They were also on their own many times and could have done what they wanted but they stayed with me and worked with me." That was not exactly what the judge had asked but… "I believed in them then and I believe in them now."

"I will take this under advisement and give you my decision in one week's time. That is all. Court…"

"Sir, one more thing," interrupted the Officer. This was going to be the hardest part.

"What is it?" the judge asked angrily.

"There is one more man," and he placed the file on the Judge's bench. "He was injured on our last mission and hospitalized."

The judge opened the file and flipped through the appropriate pages.

"I took him out and brought him home."

"You took him," he started angrily. "There are no release papers from the Royal Sanitarium," he said as he flipped the pages then looked at the Officer, "And no admission forms here in the US. Where are they or should I ask, where is he?"

"Sir, your honour," Garrison started calmly. "For the past two years we worked together, we were a team. We helped each other, we relied on each other and because of that we survived. Then when the war was over and we were coming home we couldn't just leave him there. We had to bring him home too."

"Let me get this straight," the judge demanded. "You, all of you, broke into a facility for the criminally insane and kidnapped an inmate and took him…"

"I object, your honour," interrupted Garrison. "He wasn't criminally insane."

"Oh, now you're a psychiatrist," he said with indignant sarcasm.

"No, Sir," said Garrison calmly.

"Then why was he there?"

"If you will let me explain. The building he was in was booby-trapped. He was on the second floor when it exploded. It took us three days to find him buried under all the rubble. We thought he was dead but he had survived. He had been trapped there for three days, pinned in the wreckage, alive, conscious and trapped with no food or water. By the time we got him out his hands; his fingers were torn to pieces. He had tried to dig himself out. By the time we got him out he was in shock. We took him to the hospital. When we saw him in the Sanitarium he was in a straitjacket and drugged into submission. How can you help a man who has been pinned under tons of rubble by putting him in a straitjacket? We…"

"You keep saying we. The others, those felons you say want to go straight? They were in on this break and enter and kidnapping?"

"It was my idea. I take full responsibility. I had drilled it into them that they had to be responsible for each other, they had to protect each other so when I said I could not leave him behind, they, technically still working for the Army, agreed to help."

"So," said the Judge, "Where is this, by you definition, not criminally insane person now?"

"I don't know?" This was the weak link.

"That is good to hear," he said with derision. "So, he's out there right now. And let me guess. You want him to go free as well. Well," he thundered, "Unlike you, I have no delusions that I am a doctor. I am a judge and I will not release a criminal, who has been deemed insane, go free to do as he pleases. He is to be located by the police and returned to the appropriate facility where he will be held until he is deemed to be safe to be released into society. At that time he will begin his two year parole period. Do you understand me, Lieutenant Colonel?"

Somehow he agreed. It certainly was not voluntarily. He wanted to fight the judge. He wanted to say 'how dare you treat him like that'. He wanted to force him to remove the conditions. He wanted to demand that his parole be reduced to one year like the others but all he did was say 'Yes, your honour'.

Back straight, head up, face neutral he left the courthouse. For one week he had to remain neutral as he seethed at the system that allowed people like that to dictate over others' lives. The worst of it was that if he had just said nothing then Chief would be safe. He would have just disappeared and a change of name and he would have his life. Instead he had opened his mouth and now the police would have a warrant out for his arrest and he would be put in an Insane Asylum. He could hear the others say, 'Thanks a lot, Warden.'

One week later he returned for the verdict.

"Lieutenant Colonel, you may approach the bench." He did as requested. "I have reviewed the files of the three men. I talked to a psychiatrist. He said your men were faking." Craig gasped. The man was a quack. "Then I talked to another psychiatrist. He said it was called Battle Fatigue or Shell Shock. He agreed with you that they need to be able to talk, that strangers cannot understand. He also counselled that even though they were in it together that some want to talk about it and other do not. Do not get your hopes up that they will help each other. On this second doctor's advice I will remove the conditions BUT only among these three men. They are not to associate with ANY other known felon. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir."

"Their Parole Officers have each been notified. The first two meeting are to be mediated by you. They are not to meet unless you are there. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir, Your Honour."

"Good. I will have a court room reserved for the meetings." He started to make a note.

"Your Honour?" Seeing he had his attention he said, "I am afraid, because we will inevitably be discussing Military matters, that I must be the one to choose the date and location." He saw the disagreement building. Putting on his best Lieutenant Colonel face and tone he said, "I am responsible for Military Security."

"You will inform their Parole Officers and they can…"

"No, Sir. That allows too many chances for leaks. I will call each of the men and inform them of the time and place. We must meet in private."

"You overstep your bounds, young man. The Court has control over this."

"Sir. Your Honour." He paused to consider what he was about to say. "There is a possibility of a breach of National Security. Teams, such as this, have been known to be targeted by enemy agents. If word of this meet were to reach the wrong ears it could have fatal consequences. That is why I must do things my way."

The Judge considered what he had heard. He could insist on his way. This was under his jurisdiction but he knew he was trumped by National Security. "Make your calls but I want a court Official there to witness the meeting."

"Again, I must insist that this be a private meeting. Unless your Official has Level Three Clearance then he will not be permitted to hear any of the conversation."

The Judge conceded and dismissed the court.

That was it. Good news for the three but nothing for Chief. He wanted to ask but feared he would only make it worse. As he walked out of the courthouse and down the steps with his bitter sweet victory he sent a silent apology to the Indian. 'I'm sorry Chief. Somehow I'll make it right. I swear I will.'

Craig hoped to meet as soon as possible but fate intervened. It started with a message waiting for him when he returned to his hotel.

'Call the Base'

This had to be serious. Makey was very competent so whatever it was required his presence. Damn. The meeting would have to be postponed, hopefully for not too long. He was correct. The meeting was postponed but not for the reason the Officer thought.

"Lieutenant Colonel Garrison's Office," answered the military precise voice of his aide. After hearing who the caller was he continued. "Sir. I received a call twenty minutes ago from a gentleman who refused to leave his name. He was quite cryptic, said you would understand. This was his message. Quote, Valentino innocent in worst possible place, need help, end quote**. **I assume you understand who and what he was saying?"

"I am afraid I do. That was all?"

"That was all he said but there was some banging in the background, metal on metal." He sounded puzzled. "Anything you want me to do?"

"No. Just hold down the fort."

"Yes, Sir."

The Officer had seen the police station on his way to the court so he headed there. If they could not help him there they could direct him. Lieutenant Colonel Garrison in full dress uniform and with his Military bearing was able to get the information he required within fifteen minutes. A short cab ride took him to the correct precinct and finally a meeting with his quarry.

The Interrogation Room door opened and his heart sank. Actor sat at the small table. His jacket was rumpled and stained dark down the front. His hands were handcuffed and laid on the table. The worst was the puffiness and the haunted look in his eyes.

"What happened?" Actor was a big man but he fought only when pushed and he could see no way out. He was a lover not a fighter so to see him like this meant it was serious. "Have you seen a doctor?" That certainly looked like an awful lot of blood on his jacket.

"No," he said quietly. "It is not mine." He knew he could talk to this man and he would be believed even if the cops did not. "I live at the boarding house as required but I have been dining with a friend, a young woman who has become very dear to me. We were out for a walk on our way to a play. The light was red so we started across. We almost made it to the other side when a car came around the corner. I ended up on the road. When I got up the car was gone and she…" He stopped visibly trying to control himself and failing. As he looked up to keep the tears from falling he felt the comforting pressure of a hand on his good arm.

"I went to her and held her until the ambulance came. It is her blood I wear." He took several deep breaths before he was able to continue. "I stayed with her through the night. She, she died early this morning." The hand on his arm squeezed signaling his sympathy as the tears slid down his cheeks.

"I'll get you out of here." Overcome with the tragedy he did not think through why he was here just that he had to do something.

"There's more. When I returned to the boarding house I was arrested."

"On what charge?"

"Parole violation. I am to be at the known address every night unless I have permission. I did not."

"They can't expect you to… under the circumstances?"

"They do not care and right now, I guess, I do not either. I should not have called you. I am sorry. I guess I just wanted you to know the truth. I failed you but there was a reason." He added quietly, "I loved her."

"Victor, I am glad you called and I will do everything I can to clear this up. We have been in worse places and we always pulled it off."

A spark of the old soldier returned as he said, "But this time we cannot shoot our way out." He smiled a sad smile that did not reach his eyes. There was too much pain and sadness there.

It took some talking and the insignia on his uniform to find out the details. He then went to the hospital and talked to the doctor who had tended the two hit and run victims. What Actor had told him was true. A man and a woman had been brought in last night. The woman had died of massive brain damage. The man had refused treatment insisting he be allowed to stay with the woman he claimed was his wife. He had then left the hospital after she had died.

When Garrison presented this evidence to the police he was told that that was just one night. There were others that he was unaccounted for. Back in to see the prisoner, he asked Victor who was confused.

"I have been there every night except the last. Alisha and I dined together, went to a play and a movie once but I never stayed the night."

"Then why would the landlady say she has not seen you come in all week?"

"I do not know. She led me to believe she hates foreigners. Her husband was European and in her words, a bum. I have done nothing to anger her. I thought she would appreciate me not showing up for dinner. It was saving her money on food." He thought for a moment. "I am not sure if one of the other residents might have seen me come in." His voice turned hard, "But I swear on all that is holy that I have slept there every night since I moved there."

"I believe you. Oh, I have some good news. I went to see a judge and I got the restriction removed for you and the guys to get together." Actor looked blank. "We have to meet in my presence for the first two times but after that you and the others can meet whenever you want; just no trouble." As soon as he said it he began to regret it. He pictured the other two trying to break Actor out. Not a good start.

Garrison still had to clear Actor. How could he prove he was there when no one saw him? He talked to the other residents. The Insurance Salesman said he might have seen him but couldn't swear what night that was. The accountant had a bad cold and had been in bed early all week though he remembered that Mr. Denova had not been at dinner a few nights. They were no help.

Not knowing what else to do he went to the news stand, picked up Rodney and headed to Brooklyn. The Englishman was confused when the cab stopped at an Appliance store.

"You want my advice on buying a washer? I think Mom would be better…" He did as he was told and waited in the car. Because of his confusion he was watching the door and saw the man come out. He thought he was a customer until he approached the cab door and opened it.

"Casino! Am I glad to see you. How are you?"

Casino climbed inside and the two fell to talking trying to catch up on each other's lives. Garrison climbed in the front seat and they took off again. When their destination dawned on the two in the back seat there was silence.

"Why are we here, Warden?" asked Tony guardedly. "Where's… He didn't…"

"Victor's in trouble and we have to help. I knew I didn't have to ask if you would."

"Damn right. What's the plan?"

The four men came up with a plan. There was some debate over who was to do what but they ironed it out. Come Mr. Denova's date with a judge they would be ready.

"Call your first witness."

"We call Mrs. Kovic." Once she was sworn in the Prosecution established that she was the Landlady at the Boarding House. It was also established that she heard everyone come and go.

"Doesn't that get to be a bother after a while?"

"Oh, no. It's my house and my livelihood. I need to know who is coming and going. I always know who is in and who is not and he," she pointed to the condemned man, "he was not there all week. I knew he was up to no good and he had blood on his…"

"Objection." Objection or not that was a nail in his coffin.

Lieutenant Colonel Garrison stood, called Sargent Makey and waited until he was sworn in. The opening questions identified the Sargent. Then he got serious.

"Where did you sleep last night?" The answer was 'in Mr. Denova's room'.

"And how did you get in there?"

"I obtained Mr. Denova's key from the Police. From there it was a simple matter of using it and walking in. The bed was a bit lumpy."

Mrs. Kovic was discredited. That plus the sworn statement from the Doctor regarding Mr. Denova's presence at the hospital was enough to have the defendant released. He was free.

"So where are you going now, not back there I 'ope?" asked Goniff. He wanted to offer his Mom's apartment but he was already sleeping on the couch.

"No," said Garrison. "Sargent? You have everything?"

The Sargent lifted the duffle and handed it to the former accused.

"Your bag, Sir."

"Thank you, Sargent." He did not have to ask if his Parole Officer knew the details of the proceedings. He had seen him in the courtroom. "I will have to find new lodgings."

Seeing the limp that Victor was trying to cover Goniff suggested that they would soon be twins. His cast was to come off tomorrow and then they both would be using canes.

"From the accident?" asked Garrison drilling the Italian with his eyes.

"It is nothing. Just a bruise."

"Listen to that; sounds just like Chief. I swear, my arm always bent that way. Liar," taunted Casino.

Victor glared but said nothing.

A short cab ride took them all to the hospital where they waited until Mr. Denova was called. When he returned he was on crutches.

"How bad?"

"Don't say 'not bad', Actor. They don't give out crutches for nothing," insisted Tony.

Victor sighed and then said, "Hair line fracture. The Doctor wants me to keep my weight off of it for two weeks."

"No cast?" asked Craig.

Victor shook his head but the others suspected he had conned the Doctor out of it. They also knew it was pointless to argue with the Italian once his mind was made up. Craig and Victor were two of a kind.

"The Doctor said there was a hotel nearby. I will go there until I can find a place."

"I wish you could come stay with us," said Goniff wistfully, "but it's only a one bedroom."

"You could stay with me. Julio doesn't mind sleeping on the couch," offered Tony, grinning.

"Thank you both." He stopped abruptly and his face softened. He stood up taller and said, "I used to think I did not need anyone." He looked to each man lingering on Craig's face. "You have taught me that even I need. I thank you for being there for me. I thank you all for helping me. The thought of returning to prison… you two understand." They nodded. "I am forever in your debt. Thank you, Goniff for the offer and Casino, Tony and I am sure Julio will be pleased to hear, but I will be more comfortable at a hotel."

"Just remember, babe, we're here for you."

"I will never forget." The four men headed for the exit, two on crutches and two walking, one on either side. This was the way they should be, together as a team. Together they had wreaked havoc on the Nazi and come out on top. Together they would put their lives back together because there was no one who understood a Gorilla like another Gorilla. The only tender place was the place where the fifth man should be and together they would find him and bring him back to where they could all be together again.


	10. Chapter 10

Hinge Pin 10

Misinterpretation

She was scared, well, more like very concerned, but with good reason. She had begged her father to do something that she could do too. Instead of just the guys, her father and three older brothers, going off together to hunt, she wanted something she could do too. For once in her life they had agreed to include her and look what it had got her; a trip to Yellowstone Park. OK, that didn't sound too bad but it was on horseback, umm, for two weeks, …wait it gets worse, with no guide just Dad's sense of adventure and a rough map. After all the fuss she had put up to be included she could not back out. She went. It had started out all right until they arrived at the outfitters. The horse she was assigned was not a horse but a mule, a slow, stubborn, easily distracted mule. This meant she continually lagged behind. After they made camp each evening the men would discuss what they had seen that day. She had nothing to say because by the time she had gotten there it had walk, flown or slithered away. She had asked her father if she could trade mounts but he had just said to 'Be Firm with your mount. Show'm who's boss!' Fine for him to say, his horse was trained and obedient. She had gotten on her mule and tried to be firm. Ever tried to be firm and make an animal do what you want when it is ten times as big as you, weighs ten times as much as you and has huge teeth and steel plated feet, and kicks? She gave up. The only consolation was that when the guys decided to stop and make camp they had to wait for her to get there, delaying their meal because her job was to fetch the water. That was the only consolation to make up for saddle sores, lumpy beds since the guys took the best spots before she got there and bland food. Well, there was the beautiful scenery, the quiet, the fresh air, and the inner peace that she experienced along the trail. OK, she had to admit, it wasn't all bad.

Day eight of ten dawned overcast. It looked like another day of rain like yesterday. From the commotion outside the tent it sounded like the guys were not going to wait out the rain. "Up you get, little girl. Can't let a little rain stop us." She felt sorry for the horses, they looked even more miserable than she felt. Another cold breakfast and they hit the trail. With the mud and slippery trail it took the guys a little longer to get ahead but soon enough she was alone again. She tried kicking and urging to no avail. The mule was going at his pace no matter what. She ended up sitting back and watching the scenery while trying to ignore the squishy sounds of the mule's feet and the jolts as those feet slid on a slick patch. It was actually pretty with the wet bringing out the various deep greens of the leaves and mosses and the shades of browns and blacks of the trunks and branches. Even the rocks and boulders were wearing their true colours. She wished she had her paints with her. There was no way she could capture the colours with pencil and paper but maybe when she got back she could try to reproduce some of this beauty. As the trail wound through the forested areas it passed through an occasional meadow like the one ahead. This one sloped rather sharply but a path had been carved out cutting across from one side to the other. As she come out of the trees she could see the different layers of hills, each one getting mistier the farther they were away. It was a beautiful scene, if you could ignore your mounts discomfort and the fact that the rain had soaked through the ends of your sleeves and down your neck. Only two more days and she would be on her way home to a hot bath, soft bed and better company.

For the most part she had let the beast pick the route and had become accustomed to the motion but it had suddenly changed. The animal had slipped, stopped and taken a few steps back to the edge of the trees. She looked around and saw no reason so she kicked her heels as her father had shown her. That got results but backwards instead of forwards.

"Blast You Stubborn Mule," she muttered as she tried again. Resigned, she climbed down and grabbing the reins she set off to lead the animal but was pulled up short when she came to the end of the reins. The damn animal was not budging, in fact looked like it was braced against her pull. All right, change tact.

She stood beside the mule's head and looked him in the eye. He did have a very noble handsome head but stubborn. "Look, Mule, we have to catch up with the others. Don't you want to be with the others?" Horses and mules were herd animals, weren't they? "Come on, pretty boy. Let's go home. Good Mule." No movement. She walked back to the mule and checked his legs and feet. Not that she would know if something was wrong but she had to look. Maybe something was wrapped around the mules foot or something tangled or a snake. She peered ahead along the path. Nothing. Damn.

"The longer we stay here, the further behind we get. We must get going." Then to sweeten the deal, she added, "There's a dry stall and good feed down the trail." Nothing. Damn stubborn Mule did not budge. "Damn. What am I supposed to do now?" It had been grey and overcast all day but now it was getting dark and the rain, a dull drizzle all day, was getting worse. "Dad!" she yelled. "Get back here and do something!" The sound was swallowed by the rain. Tears of frustration began to fill her eyes as she dropped the reins and turned to walk away. She had no choice, she had to keep moving.

She had taken no more than three or four steps when she slipped, fought to stay upright but failed, landing heavily on her left side. She continued to slide down the hill but when she turned to grab something to stop her descent she realized that everything was sliding. It was an avalanche, not of snow but dirt, mud, rocks, grass and bushes, everything. She was going to be buried alive. She may have screamed, it didn't matter, the rumble swallowed it. Fear added motivation to her scrambling, grasping and clawing at anything that might hold but it was futile. She was going to die.

Eventually her slide slowed and stopped while around her small stones and dirt clods continued to tumble down around and onto her. She lay still for a moment, listening, assessing before she raised her head to look around. She was lying diagonally along the hillside, head slightly downward. The whole meadow had slid and now instead of a green hillside there was a brown muddy gouge in the hillside. At it's widest it had to be five or six hundred yards across. She had been caught by the edge. Looking down was worse. There had been a stream winding through a valley. That was gone. Now there was a huge pile of rocks, dirt and boulders. Eventually it would hold back a lake but all she could think about was it could have been her tombstone. Laying her head back down she rested, closing her eyes and opening her mouth to catch a little moisture.

She had to get moving. Once again she looked up the hill. Too bad she couldn't call the mule and have him come get her. What had happened to the mule? Had he fallen too? Had he known? She could not see him but those were questions to be pondered later. Right now she had to get back up that hill and back to the trail, even if she had to walk all the way to where ever they had made camp. WHAT IF..?

No. They were farther ahead of her. This was just local. They probably didn't even know it happened. Boy did she have something to tell them tonight at the campfire, but first she had to get there. She wiggled her fingers. Her left hand was free and uninjured, her right was trapped in the muck but with a little pulling and wiggling it too was free. Sitting up carefully lest she bring on another slide she could see her right leg was buried but when she tried to move it her knee exploded in pain. Her knee was bent and any motion brought on fresh agony. Using both hands she dug out her leg, pulling rocks, mud and grass clumps out of the way. It was hard going but had to be done. Eventually she was free and was able to pull herself out and up the hill. Many stops to rest and catch her breath later she made it back to the trail's edge. The mule was not there. Her last hope gone she lay down in the mud and gave in to the tears, tears of exhaustion, pain and lost hope.

She may have dozed off but suddenly came awake, moving. Mudslide! She was going to be buried alive. She flung out her arms grasping, grabbing for anything to slow her descent. There was nothing except a soft whoof! and then a voice in her ear. "Easy. Easy now. It's all right. I won't drop you." She was eased back down from the dark into the light. Confused, she turned towards the source, a small flashlight lying on the ground and then to her rescuer, a large dark shape crouched beside her. A wide brimmed hat covered most of his head.

"Are you hurt anywhere? How about your ribs?"

The voice was soft and gentle so she relaxed for a moment then shook her head. "No, I don't think so. My knee."

"Can you ride?"

"Yes, I think so. But I can't get up, I've hurt my knee."

"I'm goin' to put my arm under your shoulders. Put your arms around my neck. I want to get you standing."

"I can't, my knee…"

"Just keep a hold of me. I need to get you up, get you somewhere warm an' dry." She felt him slide his arm under and she curled her shoulders up to make it easier, reached out, found his shoulders and held on. She felt him tense as he held her and lifted, his rain gear cold and wet under her hands. "I'm gonna lift you, I want ya ta lay across the saddle then swing your leg over."

The maneuver was accomplished with only a little difficulty and pain. Once she was settled he handed her the light and told her to keep it aimed on the path ahead. He then moved her foot out of the stirrup, placed his own in and mounted, settling in behind her. Reaching around her, he took up the reins and with a nudge with his heels they moved off into the night.

Each step taken by the horse was jarring her knee but it was better than laying there in the mud and rain. She was cold and wet but at least she was moving. Time passes slowly in the dark especially when you do not know where you are or where you are going. The lack of visual distraction allows your mind to wander. Who was this man? Where was he taking her? What happened to her brothers and father? What was that noise? Were those eyes watching them over there? Were there any wolves around here and would they attack a horse and rider? She barely suppresses a scream when a branch lightly brushed her arm. They travelled on, sometimes uphill, sometimes down.

Within the small circle of light she had watched the muddy trail wind its way past trees, around rocks and through meadows. The last thing she expected to see was a barn door. The horse stopped and the man dismounted. Taking the bridle he led the horse around the building and up to another door, a cabin door.

He helped ease her down and carried her inside. Taking the flashlight he stood it on its end on the table illuminating a peaked roof made of logs and boards. After lighting an oil lamp he helped her out of her wet rain gear, over to the cot and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Next he lit the fire in the wood stove. Once he saw it was going he picked up the flashlight, turned to her and said he would be back. With that he was gone.

She pulled the blanket closer around her and shivered as she looked around. It was a small room in a log cabin with the wood stove by the back wall. The bed was a shelf built into the one side wall stretching from the back wall almost to the front. A tall cabinet stood in that corner. It had a padlock on the hasp but it was open. A small table and two chairs sat under the one window on the other side of the door. A long bench ran along that wall. A bucket and basin sat at one end. Keeping her leg straight she shuffled to the edge of the bed closer to the stove. Where had he gone? The room began to warm as the fire popped and hissed. She eased her coat off then lay down just for a moment. She had questions for her mystery rescuer when he returned.

Chopping wood early in the morning was part of his routine, a good way to get going. Chop some, pile it on the far end then bring in an arm load for cooking. He rarely kept the fire going except in the winter but the injured girl needed to get warm and dry. She would also need hot food. There were no eggs but he did have some smoked venison and he could cook up some flat bread. That with a cup of coffee would help. Gathering up an armload of wood he pushed open the door and stepped in. Out of respect he had slept in the tiny barn but when he looked in the window she was still asleep on the bed so he had stuck to his routine of chopping the wood then washing before putting on his shirt. Now she was standing beside the door where she had been looking out the window and he was bare-chested, his shirt hanging on a nail outside. He had no choice but to walk in and put the wood down beside the stove.

"I'll be right back." Grabbing a small cloth he headed back out. There was a small stream nearby and that was where he washed. What he needed was a basin to bring her some water but all he had was the coffee pot. Company was not something he had ever had to contend with. When he was clean and dried he put on his shirt and buttoned it. He was proud of his achievement. Applying for the job at the Park had been difficult but he had kept the image of his friends in his mind. He had failed them so badly. Maybe he could redeem himself somehow and to do that he had to have a job.

He wet the cloth again and returned to the cabin. Normally he left the door open when he was here but to give her some privacy he had closed it, so he tapped on the door and opened it slowly.

Seeing her sitting on the bed he handed her the cloth. "I'm sorry I don't have a basin or a towel, but you can use this to at least wash your face.

"How's your leg feel this morning?" Her presence here was making him nervous but he had to know if she could travel.

She looked at the cloth and then at him and said, "Are you inferring my face is dirty?" Her voice had taken on a haughty tone.

Chief was shocked. His eyes widened and his mouth opened. No words came to mind until she grinned and laughed.

"I'm just kidding. I survived a mud slide last night so… That really happened didn't it? I didn't dream that?"

Used to the kidding of Goniff he remained straight faced and said, "What mud slide?"

It was her turn to hesitate. She looked down at her boots beside the bed, her pants and then up to the handsome man's face. She saw the grin there and knew he had played the game too. She smiled. He was incredibly handsome when he smiled.

"Thanks," she said as she put the cloth to use. "My leg's a lot better. My knee doesn't hurt as bad." She looked down to her leg. "You did a good job on the splint." Noticing something she stood and took a limping step closer as she lifted her hand towards his neck. She saw the wariness flash in his eyes and how he pulled back from her but she kept her hand moving up until she touched his neck. The wariness turned to shame as she touched the scar below his ear.

Chief waited for the reaction, the disgust, the horror but it did not appear. Instead she lightly traced the scar back and up into the hair line and asked in a voice softened with concern, "What happened?"

"It was during the war."

She looked him in the eye and smiled. "You're a war hero." Her face was rather plain, he would not have noticed her in a crowd but her smile was warm and accepting.

"No. I'm no hero. I got sloppy." The pain returned.

"You are a hero. You went half a world away and fought for everyone's freedom. That makes you a hero. My uncles, on my Mother's side, were heroes too," she said proudly but then added sadly, "but they didn't come home. My brothers were in school and my Dad …. Well he said he was not cut out to be a soldier even though he loves guns and goes hunting all the time. Something about a bad heart."

She giggled. "Here I am delving into your past and I don't even know your name." She thrust out her hand and said, "Hi, my name's Sarah. What's yours?"

He was embarrassed that she had seen him not only without his shirt but had seen the scar he was most ashamed of. Anyone else he would have backed off with a glare or a threat but there was something about this lively young girl in his refuge. She had nearly died in a mudslide which had injured her leg, been found by a stranger and had to spend the night alone in a mountain cabin with him nearby, yet here she was making a joke out of introductions. He couldn't help the smile as he played along. Taking her hand, he said "Hello Sarah, pleased to meet you." He nodded over her hand. "They call me Mangas but you can call me Rainy."

"Hello Rainy, pleased to meet you too. Is this your place?" she asked as she gestured around the cabin.

He looked around. "No. I'm a Park Ranger and this belongs to the Park."

"I hope you like your job because you look like you belong here." She took in his lean build, shaggy black hair and deeply tanned face. Seeing him bare-chested swinging an axe as the sun crested the mountain had been a sight to see. He just seemed to fit here.

Chief had no idea what to say to that so he asked if she was hungry. After fetching the required supplies he set to making breakfast. She offered to help but when he said she was to rest she watched. The meal was eaten in relative silence. Once completed, he washed up and began preparations to return her to her family. He explained that because of the hills he had to keep the radio about a quarter of a mile further up the mountain. The night he had found her he had radioed the news to the Station. Her father and brothers had not arrived but someone would go out to meet them and let them know she was safe.

Once ready, he went out to the barn then returned to help her. She was surprised to see two mules standing there patiently by the door, one of which was the one she had been riding. "Never thought I would see you again. Where did you find him? I thought he had taken off back to the stable."

"He found me. Walked right up to the barn door and asked to be let in. It's because of him I went looking and found you."

"It's because of him I almost died in a mudslide. If he had kept up to the others then I would have been safe."

"He must have had a reason. Mules are smarter than horses."

"I thought he was just being stubborn," she said as she reached up to rub his nose. The second mule pushed forward to get some of the attention. "Oh you are a pushy one." Using her other hand she gave him some attention as well while Chief double checked the cinch and inspected the animals' legs.

As she rubbed his nose she could not help admiring the second animals face. He was darker though he retained the light muzzle of his sire. As he swung around she saw the sun light reflected in his dark coat. He was beautiful.

He helped her mount then swung up into his saddle. He looked to see that she was watching and then urged his animal to lead off. The trail was narrow and angled downward forcing them to ride single file, the damp earth absorbing the sound of the hooves unless a shod hoof struck a stone. A short distance later they came out of the trees as the trail ran along the side of a cliff. He stopped and waited for her to move up beside him.

"Watch. There she is," he said quietly as a huge dark shape glided over their heads. The dark form floated, seeming to hang motionless until with a slight movement of the wings it slid sideways and moved off. They sat watching for a moment. It was such a beautiful sight to see an eagle so close framed against the sky and then see it slide off against the sunny valley below.

"How did you know she was there?" she asked the awe evident in her voice.

"They often use this area because of the updraft here. The air moves across the valley and then when it comes to the mountain it rises. The birds use this to gain altitude. Condors use it too. She and her mate have a nest nearby."

"Wow."

He waited to let her enjoy the view before moving off again. A few minutes later he stopped. "The trail splits up ahead. The down trail will take us to the Ranger station in about two hours. The other will take, maybe, four or so." He looked to see her reaction and was not disappointed.

It was such a beautiful day. The rain had ended, the sun was shining and a soft breeze brought the smells of the forest. She wanted to find out if her father and brothers were all right but she did not want this to end. Besides he was handsome. She smiled and said, "I take it the other has its merits?"

He smiled a quiet smile. "You could say that."

"Okay."

They urged their mounts upward and headed along the trail. Along the way he pointed out the sights and sounds. Sarah was impressed with his knowledge. She had to admit the peace and the beauty was incredible. The man beside her was well worth the longer trip too. Eventually they came to a stream and began following it upriver. Not far ahead she saw the small pond at the base of a rocky cliff.

"The water's not too deep. If you wanted to get a better wash, this is a good spot. I'm afraid the mudslide had has blocked the waterfall but you can still wash if you like and no I am not saying you stink."

He said it so smoothly that she did not catch the last part right away but when she did she laughed. "I like your sense of humor." She wanted to say what else she liked but was too embarrassed.

"I guess a bit of a wash would be nice." As he came over to help her down she added, "This would make a great picnic spot."

He agreed and helped her to the edge of the pool. There was a rock right at the edge and he helped her sit and took off her boots. Sarah grinned slyly at her assistant and said, "You know a girl could get real used to being treated this way." The way he tensed she suddenly realized how it looked. To cover she added, "I'll bet your wife loves that about you and don't worry I won't tell."

"I, uh, I'm not married."

"Girlfriend? You must have a girlfriend, a handsome man like you?" Sarah was not known for keeping things to herself.

He shook his head, avoiding her eyes and all she could come up with was, "Oh." A moment later she said, "They must be blind."

The silence hung between them like a wool blanket as she put her feet in the water. She took off her jacket pushed up her sleeves and reaching down gathered water in her hands and splashed her arms. The water was cold but refreshing. Wishing she had a towel she was pleased when a small cloth was handed to her.

"Thanks." She dried her arms and the foot she could reach as she watched him squat beside the pool looking out across the water and up into the surrounding trees. Was he watching for something or just being careful? Or was he just interested in everything? Maybe that was how he knew about the eagles and the other birds and animals that lived here in the park.

It was so beautiful here that she did not want to leave. Fearing he would get up she asked, "How did you get that scar? You said it was during the war."

Chief shot her a quick look. He had not told anyone. It was his brand of shame, his mark of dishonour. She seemed to look on him as a hero for rescuing her so maybe it was time to show her the real person who had done nothing but bring her in out of the rain.

"It was at the end of the war. We were supposed to be shipping out the next day but this mission came up. The CO of the team that was supposed to go got appendicitis so we were sent. It was my job to protect them, to watch their backs so they could do what they were supposed to but I…" His voice tightened with the pain. "What we had to do was easy; we'd done it lots of times before. I must a got careless because they all got hurt, hurt bad. It was my fault they got hurt." As hard as the words were to say, he had a lot of practice. He had beaten himself up with them for months. It never got easier; each time brought the pain back like the day it happened.

"And what happened to you?" Her voice was a gentle plea, a nudge, urging not accusing or demanding. He surrendered.

He hung his head in shame and turned away but her gentle touch on the side of his face brought him back. His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened with pain. "I got a cut on my head.

"They almost died and then as hurt as they were," his voice sinking in anguish, "they had to come back and rescue me. It was my job to back them up and because I failed they almost died."

"And they blame you?"

He nodded sadly. "I saw the looks on their faces. They didn't want to be anywhere near me but they had to because we were a team."

"And when you got back?"

"We split up. They stayed at a fancy hotel and I headed south.

"Have you tried contacting the others?"

"How could I after what I did?" he asked sadly. Obviously he missed them. "They know what I did and hate me for it. I don't blame'em..." Then almost as an afterthought he added, "Besides, I don't know where they are."

"The Army should have their addresses."

He looked embarrassed and sad. "We weren't in the Army."

"But I thought you said …"

"We worked for the Army," he said with a small smile, "we weren't actually in it."

There was a pause as she considered this. "Oh. But who gave you your orders, who told you where to go, what to do? Army's big on orders, chain of command, aren't they? He should know, shouldn't he?"

"He wasn't too pleased with me either. He's not gonna want to hear from me."

"Why not call him. Maybe he might have had time to cool down." She watched him look down at his feet and shake his head. He did not want to have to hear the rejection.

"I hope someday to be able to prove myself, to show that… I don't know, that I'm not that person anymore. If I can…" He ended with a shrug.

"Tell you what. Give me his name and I'll write to him. If he doesn't answer or says he doesn't want to see you then I'll just say, um, he left no forwarding address. That way it won't seem like a rejection."

He hated to dampen her enthusiasm, she sounded so pleased that she had come up with a way to help but he had to set her straight.

"I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of and some I am ashamed of but I never hid behind a woman's skirt, especially a pretty one."

"A pretty one?" she asked coyly.

"Sorry, I shouldn't a said that."

"Why, because it's not true?" There was a touch of anger. She knew she was not pretty but he had no cause to tease her.

"No, I didn't mean that."

"Then what did you mean." She was serious and he was flustered. He took a deep breath.

"That was a backhanded compliment. If you're goin' to compliment someone you should do it right, not like that."

The smile replaced the anger. "That was not a backhanded compliment. In fact that was a gentleman's way of softening a refusal. I thought it was kind of sweet." If she had though he was flustered before, it was nothing like now. He blushed and refused to meet her eye.


	11. Chapter 11

Hinge Pin 11

Reunion

"Hello?"

"Hello, Tony?"

"Hey Warden. Wait a sec til I close the door." There was a soft tap as the receiver was put down. A moment later he returned. "Can't hear too good with all the background noise. What's up?"

"I think I just got a line on Chief."

"Hey, that's great," he enthused then added darkly, "He's not in prison, is he?"

"No. Here, listen to this. It's a letter I just received." Casino heard paper rustling.

"Dear Major Garrison,

Although we have never met, I have heard only good things about you from a man you led during the war. I happened to meet him when he rescued me from a mud slide. He has told me how he disappointed you on your last mission but did not have the chance to apologize. I hope time has dulled your anger and you would be amenable to forgive him. He misses you and his team mates. He does not know I have written so please do not get angry with him. If you do not respond, I will understand, but I hope you will give him another chance. Please write …..

It goes on to include the name and address of a woman in Nebraska."

"I don't understand. Read it again, the part about the last mission." Casino listened but he still was at a loss. "I don't get it. What's she talking about? You sure she's talking about Chief? Maybe it's from your old combat command."

"I've gone over that and besides they had their chance at my court martial. I can't see how she would have gotten my name except from him. And no, I don't understand either. I've been going over what happened that last mission."

Casino was thinking back as well. "Disappointed? That last mission was when the building blew up and he was trapped. What's that got to do with disappointed? How did he disappoint anyone?"

"I'm willing to bet that that is her word for it. Chief would have used something else and she has tidied it up. All I can come up with is he blames himself though I'm not sure for what.

"That sounds like Chief. You going to contact her?"

"That's another problem. She went on to say that if she did not hear from me by," he consulted the letter, "by the 23rd, which was three days ago, that she would assume I was not interested. I am going to see if I can get a phone number and give her a call."

The man in question was scared. This had been a terrible idea. He couldn't do this. He should have thrown the letter away, unopened. His boss had given it to him last week and he had spent four day worrying. The first three and a half hours were spent trying to convince himself to open it. Maybe it was his Parole. That would be great but what if it wasn't? The return address was West Point so probably not but the name above the address was Garrison. Garrison might be the one to send him that all important paper but what if it wasn't? It might be he had finally tracked him down and was about to pay him back for blinding him. Probably want to get revenge for Goniff's leg too. A one legged thief would be mad as hell. That was not something you forgave.

All he had to do was light it, drop it in a fire pit, unopened and take off but this was the best job he had ever had. He was outside in the wilderness, doing as he needed. He would miss it but it was better to lose this than face the men he had destroyed.

But he hadn't thrown it; he had kept it and opened it when he got back to his room. The paper looked official until he pulled it out. A letter. There was still a chance to bury it or crumple it and sink it in the water. Maybe it told where he could pick up his parole so he read it.

The salutation was to his prison name. That was the name on his arrest record. That was the name he needed the parole for to clear his prints. He began to read it.

"I received a letter from a young lady who you met a month ago. She told me of your regrets from that last mission but I am confused. I discussed this with the others and they are confused as well. To us we saw your actions as brave, just as we knew they would be.

We would like to meet with you anywhere you like so we can assure you that you did not disappoint us and certainly have no need to apologize for anything. We miss you and would like to see you again."

From there it went on to give the address and a phone number where he could leave a message.

While he had been debating this lightning had started a forest fire and he gladly raced off to fight it. He would rather face a raging forest fire than the man who he had betrayed.

The fire had been small and quickly extinguished so he was back still facing his dilemma. Finally he had surrendered and placed the call. If Garrison had answered he was going to hang up but fortunately it was another younger voice. He left the message and waited. He took his next shift and checked the high trail for trouble, wandering hikers and watched for poorly extinguished campfires. It had been all quiet. His mule's nervousness told him there was a mountain lion in the area but he did not see it. He returned and waited for the fateful day. Not wanting to involve the park he set the meet for a diner that sat several miles outside the boundaries. It was there that he sat wearing clean jeans and a tee shirt. He had showered and washed his hair but drew the line at getting a haircut. This was who he was now besides the longer hair kept the bugs out of his ears and the sun off the back of his neck when he was not wearing the Ranger's hat. He was going to miss that hat. Deep down he knew he was going to have to run.

The waitress brought him a coffee and he sat for at least two minutes before he had to get up. Raising his cup to the waitress and gesturing outside he headed for the door. He had been in here a number of times usually in uniform. He figured it made him look more respectable. Once outside he breathed deeply hoping to calm his nerves. It wasn't working.

It was a beautiful day with a clear blue sky and only a gentle breeze. The sun had baked the gravel and dirt parking lot. Fortunately there was little traffic to stir the dust but heat from the ground radiated up warming the air so he moved off to the end of the diner and onto the grass and under the trees. It was cooler here.

Why was he so nervous? What was the worst that he could do? Yell at him? Chief put his head back and squared his shoulders. He deserved worse than that and maybe when he was finished then maybe they wouldn't be so mad at him. They would never let him back in but as long as they had their chance then maybe he could rest easier. Maybe, just maybe Actor would at least talk to him or write to him. Actor had hurt his arm but maybe it was better now and he would forgive him enough to at least write. It would be good to have someone write to him. He stood waiting.

A car approached but did not stop. He checked his watch. Two minutes to go. The couple who had been drinking coffee at the front came out and got into their car. They left. Silence. The message said they would arrive between two and three depending on the traffic. He tossed the last of the coffee back and stood holding the cup. Another car approached and slowed but continued on. Maybe they had changed their minds. Another deep breath held and released. He walked farther into the trees. It was peaceful here in the shade. He looked longingly to the path that led deeper into the forest and eventually to a trail into the park. He knew those trails, where the best hunting was, where the cabins were. He could live in the park for a long time and no one would ever find him. But did he want to live that way? No. He had to face up to what he had done, face his failure to protect the men who had trusted him with their lives.

Another car approached and pulled into the lot. Children in the car. Relief. He was not comfortable with children but he was glad to see them because they were not… The longer you put it off the worse… Where were they? What if they had car trouble?

Midweek was always slower so it was a good ten minutes before another car appeared and kept on going. He should take the cup back. He took three steps before stopping at the sound of another car. This one pulled in. His heart began to pound.

All four doors opened and three men got out. Fear and pride warred in his heart. Garrison stood by the passenger's door. He was tall and lean. His hair was still military short and he had that look even thought he was in civilian clothes. The driver was a little shorter but solidly built. His dark hair was not as short but was just as neat. From the passenger seat behind the driver a tall dark handsome man stood, moved away from the door and closed it. He moved up toward the driver, he gait was graceful and smooth. The last door was open but it took a moment for the occupant to emerge. In fact it took two tries for him to get out and standing. Garrison had moved back and stood ready to assist. That was what they did; they helped each other, not like him. He had left them. Closing all the doors they made their way toward the diner. The three moved with an easy grace that spoke of confidence and strength. The fourth man limped relying heavily on a cane. The others walked slowly allowing him to set the pace. They were a team.

They were there, alive, together. The memories of their exploits made him proud. He had been a part of that team. He had contributed to their success but he had also caused their demise. The other two looked to have recovered and Goniff was doing okay with his wooden leg. Garrison seemed to be doing all right with only one eye but he had to find it difficult. At least he was no longer wearing the patch. The eye must look all right or maybe they gave him a glass eye.

The men were inside, last chance to run. He could put the cup on the picnic table and head for that trail… No. Garrison had taught them to never quit. He took one final breath of the free and headed for the door.

Inside there were only two tables occupied. Near the front was the couple with the three children. The waitress had brought their orders and the parents were trying to get the children to eat quietly, difficult for children who could see acres to run and play in right outside their window. At the back at the other end were four men seated around the table. The waitress with her back to the door was taking their orders. Chief was sure Garrison had seen him but he gave no notice just concentrating on the waitress. He paused then continued. You got this far…

The waitress moved off and the four men saw him approach.

"Hello, Chief," said Garrison warmly, standing and holding out his hand.

Chief had it all planned out. He would apologize and thank them for coming and… Hearing the warmth and seeing the caring on his leader's face his carefully planned and rehearsed speech evaporated leaving him speechless.

"'Ey Chiefy. 'Ave a seat."

How could Goniff talk to him like that after…? He looked Goniff in the eye and said, "I'm sorry." He turned his head toward Garrison and said, "I'm sorry I failed you," he swiveled to catch the other's eyes, "all a you. I just wanted to tell you that."

As he talked Craig took a step closer. "Chief?" He saw the slight edging back and the flash of fear. "You didn't fail us. You have nothing to apologize for."

You hear what you expect and he heard 'you did nothing'. He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry." He stepped back. His world shrank to that single moment, a moment where he stood in shame before the men he had wronged.

Actor pushed back the chair and stood at the end of the table. "Lorne, apology accepted. Please sit with us and tell us what you have been doing. You look to be doing very well."

Goniff, who was sitting next to Actor with his back to the door said, "Yeah, I saved you a seat." He patted the chair beside him. "'ere you go."

Chief looked to the man who had befriended him so long ago. He had never lied to him or treated him bad. He was accepting him. Even Goniff wasn't mad. He took the offered hand and felt the warm clasp. Actor held out his hand and he shook that one as well then leaned across the table to shake Casino's too.

"I'd get up too but I just got comfortable," said Goniff as he held out his hand from his seated position.

Chief shook that one and marveled at the grin. They were all accepting him back as if they didn't remember.

"It's good to see you, Chief," said Craig. His voice was sincere, his face relaxed into a smile.

"Yeah. We've been looking for you for a long time," said Casino but when he saw the flash of fear he added, "We miss you. You're part of the team." The fear eased, helped by the arrival of the waitress with their coffees and who stood awaiting their orders. Actor asked for a little more time and she departed.

"So Chiefy," started Goniff picking up the menu again. "What's good on the menu? I assume you've eaten 'ere before. What do you recommend?"

"Leave it to the Limey to think of food." Casino picked up the menu and gave it a glance. "These hamburgers any good?" He peeked around the edge to catch any response. Seeing a person talk sometimes helped him to hear what they had to say.

"They're not bad," he said flicking a glance toward Actor. He licked his lips and said, "The trout's from a lake near here so it's fresh."

"That sounds good," said the former conman as he put the menu down and slid it toward the edge.

"Make that two." Craig slid his menu toward Victor's. "What are you having?" he asked, looking at the Indian.

"Nothin' for me." He was too nervous to eat.

"Oh, that doesn't look good. Kid invites us to a restaurant but he doesn't eat here. Sounds fishy to me," Casino suggested with a smile.

"Fishy? As in fresh fish?" said Rodney looking around the table to see if anyone else caught the joke. If they did they ignored him. "You guys are no fun," he added with a pout.

"At least have some soup or something light. I see the soup of the day is vegetable," offered Actor as he gestured to the sign behind the counter.

"If you don't, then we can't either." Tony put down his menu with a snap. That got the Indian's attention. "It would be rude to eat in front of you. It took us the entire war but Actor here did manage to teach us, some of us," he looked at Goniff, "some manners. So if you don't eat then we go without too." He sat there looking pleased with himself.

"You are correct, Casino. We will have to wait until later to eat."

That did it, Chief's resolve cracked. "I'll have the soup." Even to him his voice sounded strained.

"Good! Lunch is on again," crowed Rodney. "I thought I was going to starve."

When the waitress had taken their orders there was silence for a moment then Rodney asked if there were any bears in the park and had Chief ever had to face one. That got the ball rolling in neutral territory.

Finally the talk turned around to that last mission. Craig asked Chief what he remembered. His guilt was either the way he remembered it or what he had done later. He wanted to know.

Casino had worried about this as well. He had not managed to tell his part in the disaster either. He would do it now.

"I remember the mission. We had to get in the Italian guys house and check the safe. I remember being in it. I was supposed to watch the door and make sure no one saw us." He looked down at the table. "I disobeyed orders and left my post and that's how you got caught. I was wrong."

"We didn't get caught." Garrison's voice was gentle.

That snapped his head up. "What? But I… That's how you got hurt. They…"

"We did not get caught," confirmed Victor.

"But…"

"And it was my fault, not yours." All eyes swivelled to Tony.

"I was having trouble with the safe and it made me mad and I told you to go out in the hall, that you were bothering me. That's how you got hurt."

He was utterly confused now. "But I didn't get hurt." He could not understand the absolute silence that fell. Even the family at the front stopped. Chief looked to each face fearfully.

"Do you remember the blast?" asked Craig. The blank look was his answer. "Do you remember coming home?"

Chief searched his memory and came up with a certainty. "We flew to New York." He was sure of that. He remembered that and the hotel room. Casino was real happy to be home.

"The house in Italy was booby trapped. The safe was the trigger. That's why I was having trouble with it. They had tied it in. If I had checked I would have seen it but I was in a hurry. I set it off. It was my fault everyone got hurt." Casino had worried that he would be censured but no one batted an eye.

Chief had no idea what they were talking about. He did not remember anything about a blast. They must have gone on a mission without him and forgotten. He sat there trying to figure out what they were talking about.

"Craig and I were outside when it blew up," said Actor drawing Chief's eyes to him.

"Goniff and I were found by the Warden. We didn't remember that blast either. It deafened me," said Casino.

"It messed up my leg," put in Goniff.

"But you're not deaf," said Chief tentatively, his frown deepening.

Casino leaned in cupping his ear and said, "Eh?" He dropped his hand and said, "Just kidding. Deaf in one ear and some loss in the other."

This was all too much to take in. He looked from one familiar face to another stopping at Craig. He frowned. "You had a patch…"

Craig nodded. "We found Casino and Goniff and got them to a hospital but it took us three days to find you. You were buried. Casino, Actor and I had to dig you out."

Chief looked to the three but they all had the same look on their faces. This was true. He suddenly felt very cold.

"I got dirt in my eyes. That's why the patch, to let them heal." He saw the young man peering at his eyes.

"Yer not blind?"

"No," he said with a gentle smile. He was not going to mention the blow to the head that had caused the detached retina and fortunately no one else did either. "Actor hurt his arm but that was not your fault either."

"But if I'd been with Casino and Goniff then…"

"In an explosion there is no safe place. These two," and he gestured to Casino and Goniff, "were three feet away from each other. One deafened the other…"

"Lost his leg," finished Chief.

"What?" asked Goniff as he peered under the table. "I still got both me legs."

Now it was Chief's turn to look. "I thought, I thought you…"

"No," said Actor. "There was talk of but the Doctors were able to save his leg."

Chief sat stunned. "So I didn't… I don't understand. Why don't I remember any of this?"

"Chief, you were blown up, buried and trapped for three days." Garrison saw the man shudder and his eyes widen. "By the time we got you out you were in shock. It's a wonder you survived much less remember any of it."

Chief sat back for a moment then said, "I'll be right back," as he pushed the chair back and stood. He had to get out. He needed to think.

"Don't you run out on us again," warned Casino pulling Chief up short. He turned and looked back at them horrified.

He had run out on them? He had left them when they needed them? He was a coward. His legs felt weak and he sat down.

"When we got back to New York I tried to get you to come with me but you had other ideas. You left."

"I don't remember much about that other than… a train. I musta hopped a train."

"You hid in a box car?" Chief was trying to puzzle out how he had gotten from New York to here so he missed the sounds of disbelief and the incredulous looks. The man who stayed on deck for four days rather than go below on the ship and slept outside instead of in a hotel got into a boxcar with the door closed.

"I remember it was cold. I fell asleep once and woke up as we were coming out of a tunnel. I don't think it rained, least I don't remember getting wet.

"You weren't inside, were you?" asked Victor quietly

A flash of something then he looked puzzled. He shook his head as he said, "No."

"On the roof? You travelled cross country on the roof of a box car."

"Not all at once. It took me a while, I guess. I hid out in New Mexico for a while. Then I saw a poster advertising jobs in the parks so I applied."

"And now you're Ranger Chief," said Rodney and then his grin widened. "Or is it Chief Ranger?"

"Ranger Walker, Lorne Walker."

"Your name?"

"Yeah. It's the name Gouyen gave me when I stayed with her. She gave me an Apache name that means 'He walks alone'."

"Hence Lone Walker or Lorne Walker." Victor looked on in approval. It suited him. "Except you do not have to walk alone anymore."

Chief smiled and looked down embarrassed. "Thanks. " He looked up and around the table. "I've missed you guys. I'm glad you found me."

"You should thank Sarah." They were a bit surprised by the flush. There was something there. "She said you rescued her from a mudslide."

"I didn't rescue her. She rescued herself. All I did was bring her in out of the rain."

"Doesn't matter. We're just glad we found you and we can all be together again.

"There is one other thing." Craig's serious tone caught everyone's attention. "'Because we took you from a Sanitarium the court…"

"Sanitarium?" asked Lorne frowning. "I was in a Sanitarium? That's for…"

"When we found you, you were in shock. You wouldn't let anyone touch you."

"I never liked anyone touchin' me. That's..."

"That's not all." That stopped him. "When you regained consciousness you became violent." Craig hated having to tell him this but he had to know and he hoped he would go along with what they had to do. The look on Lorne's face broke their hearts.

"The court insists you be brought in and returned to a psychiatric facility until the doctor certifies you fit to be released then you have to complete two years supervise parole." Craig expected to see betrayal in his eyes but there was just acceptance. Did he expect them to pull a con? Best clear that up. "This is not something we can fix. I can't," Craig glanced down the table, "ask Victor to play a psychiatrist and sign papers. Don't kid yourself, he would do it for you," Victor nodded, "but he is to be going straight. He swore no more cons."

"Yeah, I know." Now it was his turn to look to his friend. "I was trying to go straight too. I don't know how I made it this far." He gestured to the scene before them. "Getting this job an' all. I guess I was just trying to prove that…" He hung his head in shame and frustration.

"That you could do it?"

Lorne lifted his head shaking it slowly. "I… I guess I wanted to…" head still up but he dropped his eyes, "to show you I wasn't…" His head dropped. He took a breath and raised his head. "I wanted to prove to you that I wasn't a failure."

"A failure? Damn, you're doing better than any of us," said Tony completely stunning Lorne. "Except the Warden, here," and he tipped his head in his direction. "He's shooting up the ranks. Probably a General by now," he said proudly.

"Lieutenant Colonel," corrected Craig.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel," said Chief sincerely. "After putting up with us you deserve it."

They finally finished up and headed into the park where Craig had reserved rooms at the lodge. Victor, Tony and Rodney headed out to explore leaving Craig and Lorne to talk. The two men wandered out onto the front terrace and sat on the rail fence.

Craig was unsure how to broach the question that had bothered him, maybe puzzled him was a better way to express how he felt when he had read the letter from Sarah. Unless he had changed drastically it was not like Chief to confide in anyone. You had to earn his trust before he would even open his mouth. Apparently he had opened up to this woman. She sounded very friendly on the phone but it would have taken more than that to get him to talk.

Modulation his voice to a tone of simple conversation he said, "I was a bit surprised that you talked to Sarah about that last mission." Craig knew a direct question would cause him to be defensive. Apparently he was not careful enough because the reaction he got was the one he was trying to avoid.

"I didn't tell her nothin' about what we did," he said anxiously. They had been sworn to secrecy.

"I don't mean the details." He took a quick look at his companion to reassure him then looked away turning just enough to still be able to see him out of the corner of his eye. "I know you wouldn't say anything about that. I meant about how you thought and felt. You don't usually tell people that."

"Yeah," he said embarrassed. "It's just she was looking at me like I was something special, a hero for saving her and a hero for going to war an' all. I had to… to tell her I was no hero. I had to… tell her I had got you all hurt. Least that's what I thought. I couldn't have her believing something that wasn't true."

Craig wondered why that was important to him. He did not usually get involved with people and did not care what they thought. He never went out of his way to brag or boast; he just ignored people. Unless…

"Back up there. You are special." He held up his hand to stop the protest. "All of you. You were not the only ones to be offered this gig. A majority of the convicts refused and of those who accepted many are dead, back in prison or being hunted." Lorne stared at this in disbelief. "You four are the only team that survived intact. You four are special and heroes. Remember Monsieur Desrosier and the Joubert's. How about the Van Houtum's. They sure think you in particular are a hero." He watched the emotions at war within his youngest team member. The Van Houtums daughter had been taken hostage and Lorne had rescued her. He felt all he had done was his job. Her parents had felt otherwise.

"Of those who did survive, I doubt they have kept in as close contact as we have. And I will tell you something else; Sarah still thinks you are special." That embarrassed him and he blushed. It was true, Chief, Lorne felt something for the girl. He cared. Craig tried to hide the smile but he couldn't.

"She was the one who wrote to me and told me where you were. She seemed quite taken with you."

Lorne's head snapped up to look his friend in the eye. He had to know. "You talked to her?"

"Yes. I have yet to meet her but just from talking to her I like her."

"You do?"

"And so do you."

Lorne looked away, trying to hide the flush and silly grin. He did not have to answer in words, his actions betrayed him.

"There she was, wet, dirty, injured and still she, I don't know, she didn't let it get her down. In the morning seeing her stand there with this big smile on her face introducing herself to me, a stranger. I liked her spirit. Then when we were heading back she didn't talk a lot but it wasn't like… She reminded me of me just a bit. She was content to be there, with me. She wasn't mad or scared."

"She was comfortable to be with," offered Craig.

"Yeah," he said, pleased that his friend understood. "I wanted to be with her a little longer so I offered to take her to this place that she could wash up a bit. Thought she might like to look decent," a one shoulder shrug, "when she got back to the station. It was so peaceful there and she, well, it was like she understood that. Then she asked about how I got that scar." He looked down at his hands, embarrassed. "I felt that if I told her there that maybe she wouldn't think too bad of me. I wanted her to know."

"You wanted her to like the real you, warts and all."

"Yeah." Again the relief.

"It didn't change anything did it?" he asked gently.

"No." He sounded amazed. "That's when she offered to write to you.

"That bothered me too." He saw the questioning look from Craig. "I wanted to talk to you desperately but I was too afraid. Again I was being a coward. Fortunately she didn't see that. She was so happy at being able to do something that…"

"You let her make you feel like a coward because it made her happy."

"That sounds bad doesn't it," he answered anxiously.

"Sounds like a man in love to me," said Craig watching his friend's face. He was rewarded with a flustered look.

Lorne sighed and smiled. "Yeah, it does doesn't it." They sat in silence for a moment listening to a harsh scolding call then watched a blue bird circle and land at the edge of the parking lot. Once it landed they could see the dark head with the distinctive crest.

"Stellar's Jay," he said absently. "Part of my job is to note what birds and animals I see and where. The park is taking an inventory."

"Perfect job for you." To Craig it sounded like that was all he was going to get out of Lorne so he was surprised when he spoke again.

"She wrote to say she's coming back at the end of the season."

"I'm sorry I won't be here to meet her, but then you probably want to be alone."

"No," he said quickly. "I mean, I wish you could be here, to meet her." There was a long pause. "There's something else I want to… I have to tell her."

"About your past."

"Yeah. But what if that's… What if she can't accept that; that I was in prison? Especially for what I did."

"Chief. Lorne, if she can't accept that you made a mistake and that you paid for that mistake, then she is not the person for you. The person who truly loves you, for you, will understand and will accept you as you are. Just as we all accept each other for who we are, not what we have done."

"You're right. It's just hard to know that I might lose her for being honest."

"If she found out later, you could lose her for not being honest."

"Yeah." He sat up straighter, head up. "I'll write to her and tell her so she won't waste a trip if she can't forgive me."

"Call her."

"What?" he asked, his confidence and resolve weakening.

"Call her and tell her. She'll be able to hear the honesty in your voice and if she has questions then she can ask and you can explain.

"What's the worst she can do? Yell at you? Hang up on you?"

Lorne's confidence was returning but he still looked worried. "You're right. Thanks, War… Thanks, Craig.

"It don't seem right to call you that."

"Why not? You're just not used to it."

"No. It makes it sound like we're equal."

"We are equal, Lorne. The war is over, I'm no longer the boss and we are friends, right?" Craig gave him a questioning look under one raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. Best damn friend I ever had. Others too. Thanks for being there for me, and putting up with me, and helping me. I got you to thank for all this."

"This, you did yourself."

"If it weren't for you giving me a chance I'd still be in prison or dead. And this, this job, I went after it to prove to you that I could be trusted. I figured if I could stay out of trouble and go straight then it might," his voice petered out, "you know."

"Yes, I know. You didn't have to prove anything," he said then added as an afterthought, "except at the very beginning." He grinned and saw the answering grin. They both understood. The trust and friendship that had developed during the war was still intact.

"Come on; let's go see what the others have gotten into.

"One other thing. About that Sanitarium. Does it have to be a certain one?"

"The judge didn't specify. You have a preference?"

"If you don't mind, could it be at one near where you're stationed?" he asked anxiously. "That way maybe you could come see me, sometime, if… you're not too busy, that is?"

"I'll do my best, and yes I will come see you."

"Thanks. Any idea how long it might take?"

"No. It shouldn't take too long. I wouldn't think it would take long for a Doctor to meet with you. It's not like you drool and climb into people's laps and such," he added with a grin.

"I'm gonna have to tell Sarah not to come." He shook his head dejectedly. "It's bad enough I gotta tell her I was in prison. Now I gotta tell her I'm off to the Loonie bin until a Doctor says I can come out." He looked to his friend sadly. "I've lost her for sure haven't I?"

"Well if she still comes to see you then you know she truly is in love with you."

"It's too much." Lorne had surrendered. "I'll write to her and tell her that I have to go somewhere and that I'll write when I get back." He slid down off the rail but was stopped by a hand on his arm before he could take a step.

"Lorne, don't run." Strong advice softly spoken.

"I can't tell her I'm a convict and a lunatic. No woman in her right mind would put up with that. I won't ask her to."

"Tell her the truth. You already mentioned that you were injured on that last mission. Tell her that you have to go see a Doctor to make sure your injuries are fully healed. The Doctor suspected psychological damage so you have to go and see him. You do not expect to be gone long but you will call when you get back."

"You want I should con her?"

"There's nothing in what I said that is a con. It is all true."

"Sure sounds better than the way I said it." Hope was returning. He held out both hands palms up. He lifted one hand and said, "Lunatic," then dropped that hand several inches and lifted the other and said, "Psychological damage". He looked to his friend. "You got a way with words just like Actor." There was a trace of a smile in his eyes. "I'll do it."

"Good. Let's go see what the others are up to." The two men went off in search of their companions.

It did not take them long to find their friends. They followed the sounds of men yelling and laughing. The odd clank of metal on metal confirmed that they were playing horseshoes beside the resort. It was Goniff who was making the most noise, yelling encouragement to whoever was tossing at the moment. He had tried throwing a shoe but had almost fallen and decided that he made a better heckler spectator than a player. The arrival of other two was the signal to start a new game as doubles.

As Craig waited his turn he watched his men. They were all complex characters. They could be deadly serious, seriously deadly, or like now they could be like little kids, yelling and laughing at each other's antics, even Victor. Tony was egging Lorne on to throw with his eyes closed and Victor was protesting that that was an unfair advantage. They were laughing and kidding around. No one knew what the score was. Rodney was supposed to be keeping track but from the way he was kidding around they knew that was the last thing on his mind. No one cared, they were just glad to be back together. They needed to be together. How was he going to do that with Lorne locked up? That brought images of the Sanitarium they had taken him from. He saw the people standing in the hall behind locked doors, their eyes vacant. He heard the sounds. He could not take him back to that. He took his turn but he could not concentrate. There had to be a way.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Leaving

"Hello, Sarah."

Hello Ranger Walker, how are you?" He could hear her smile and he pictured her in the cabin where she had introduced herself.

"I'm fine. I want to thank you for what you did."

"He wrote to you or did he call?"

"Better still, they all came. And even better it turns out I didn't remember it the way they did. Seems I didn't get them hurt so they weren't mad at me."

"Oh, Lorne. I'm so glad it went well. You must be real happy now."

"Yes and no. Yeah, I'm glad we got together but I found out that I have some business I gotta take care of up in New York. I have to go see an Army Doctor. At the end of the mission the Doctor suspected I had psychological damage so I have to go and see him. I don't expect to be gone long but I'll call you when I get back."

"Do you have psychological damage?" There was no fear just curiosity.

"There's stuff I don't remember. My Commanding Officer says that's probably from what happened but best a Doctor check me out. There is a good chance I'll lose my job."

"The Park Services would fire you for that?" she asked indignantly.

"I have to leave soon and I don't know how much notice they want."

"Wouldn't they re-hire you when you got back?"

"I don't know. I'll have to ask. They might not, seeing as I gotta leave in a coupla days."

"Can you call me from there or write?"

"I'm not sure but I'll do what I can. Soon as I can I'll let you know. And Sarah, I was really looking forward to seeing you again."

She could not help but hear the longing in his voice. She did not have to fake the same tone. "So was I." There was a pause then she said, "Let me know when and where I can come see you or you could come here. Maybe meet my family?" she added tentatively.

Her family? She wanted him to meet her family? As in… she wanted to… If only… Then the other side, the panic. What if they didn't like him? What if they did not approve?

"There's something I want to talk to you about before that."

"What?" she laughed. "You have no table manners and eat with your fingers and you snore and sleepwalk?"

Lorne knew she was trying to put him at ease and he loved her for it. "Sarah, a few years ago I did something stupid and I killed a man. I went to prison."

"I take it this is not something you make a habit of, this killing people." She was no longer laughing but she was not angry or fearful either. Maybe he hadn't lost her yet.

"No. I went to prison and I swore I would never do anything like that again. I paid for my stupidity. Then during the war, the guys I was with, I learned, I learned better ways to do things. I learned how to act and… I know for a certainty that I will never do anything like that again. I wanted you to know about my past before you come to see me in case you," he faltered, "in case you changed your mind."

"Thank you for being honest with me, Lorne. I really appreciate that."

'Oh no,' thought Lorne, 'here comes the good bye'. He cringed as he waited for the fatal words.

"There's something I have to tell you too."

This is it, he thought. Don't draw it out, just say it. He could not bear to hear it so he thought he would help. "It's okay, I understand."

"You do and you don't mind?" She sounded relieved. "But how did you know?"

That stopped him. "What?"

"I just wondered how you knew. It's not that… most people don't know unless…"

"I don't understand. I thought you didn't want to see me, after what I told you."

She laughed. It was a sound of relief which confused Lorne even more.

"No. I mean yes I do want to see you again," she said eagerly. Then her voice and enthusiasm fell. "What I wanted to tell you was that I'm… My Dad says I'm retarded." The last two words came out in a gush as if she was just glad to be rid of them."

"Retarded? Why would he say you're retarded?"

"I had to drop out of school. I can't read or write." For once she had lost her zest. She sounded depressed.

"That don't make you retarded. I just learned to read and write about two years ago, an' I ain't… I'm not retarded. Neither are you.

"Kind of you to say that but my teachers tried and they said I was stupid and defiant. I was afraid to tell you because…"

"Just listen to us. We're both afraid to admit that we're not perfect."

"Yeah," she laughed. "Least yours in the past, mine is forever."

"Don't kid yourself. A prison record is forever. It never goes away."

"Don't we make a pair, a felon and a retard."

"Don't talk like that. I'm a man determined to make something of himself and you are a pretty young lady with a super personality and a great laugh."

"That's not one of those back handed compliments, is it?" she asked coyly.

"No," said Lorne seriously. "I'm serious. That's why I… I don't usually tell people much about myself. But being with you, somehow I knew I could trust you."

"You're so sweet; you're going to make me cry. I don't tell people about being, you know, but I guess seeing as you were being honest I had to be honest too. Thank you for being so understanding."

After he hung up he felt like he could fly. Sarah had not hung up on him, she had not told him to get lost, she wanted to see him again, warts and all. Life was good. He turned and walked back toward the lodge dining room. He heard the joyful laughter of the occupants. Goniff was entertaining. As he entered the room Craig got up and approached.

"A Ranger named Jensen came by looking for you. Said to drop by his office."

"Thanks."

"So how did it go with Sarah? Everything all right?"

"Yeah," he said with a hint of a smile, his eyes twinkling.

"You going to see Jensen now?"

"I better."

Before the war being called to the boss's office, whether it was the Principle's or the Prison Warden's was cause for concern but having worked for Garrison had changed that. Why he had decided to trust the man he wasn't sure. He had figured out real quick that to survive he would have to work with him but then death had never really scared him. Maybe it was that the guy treated him like he was worthy, like when he gave an order he expected it to be carried out without hounding him or riding him. It was as if he trusted him to do it. He did not know why he had trusted him, no one else had but it just didn't seem right to break that trust; he had liked it.

When he had applied to work in the park he was hired to clear trails and camp sites. While they had waited for the truck to take them back he had heard a bird call and had gone looking to see if he could find it. An older man, Chuck Danforth, one of the Park Rangers, had followed him and had told him it was a Western Tanager. That had been the start of their relationship. Chuck enjoyed bird watching and seeing another person interested thrilled him. He got his protégé a book on birds and encouraged him to keep a list of what he had seen and heard. From there Lorne had started noting the plants and trees and even animals.

What was worrying him this time was having to tell his boss that he was going to have to leave the best job he ever had. As he walked to the Main Office he looked around. The trees had been cut back only enough to allow for the road and the buildings. Beyond that they grew thick and tall. Birds, accustomed to people and the handouts, congregated in the area. Their various calls were soothing. Even better was up in the hills away from the cars and the people but even here was peaceful. As much as he liked the desert and its wide open spaces here was home. He stopped, closed his eyes and breathed in the scent. It was going to be hard to go back to New York and walk into that building knowing he was going to be locked up for a time. Garrison, Craig did not seem to think it would be for long, maybe a few days at most. He could do that knowing that he had friends waiting for him. His friends. He smiled and opened his eyes. They had found him. Casino had said they had looked for him. They cared about him. During the war it was hard to be sure. They cared about each other because they had to. They depended on each other for their lives. They didn't have to now. They were free to go where ever but still they cared. They cared enough about him to look for him. They cared enough to come all the way out here, just to see him. The joy that filled him was enough to over whelm his fears. He walked on with confidence.

"Come in, come in." Harold Jensen had started as a park ranger and had worked his way up to, at age fifty-nine, being in charge of the whole park. He was good at his job but he missed those days in the saddle. He was too old for that day in and day out but he still rode when he could. That was why he took such an interest in the Rangers who worked for him. When Chuck had suggested that a young Indian lad be hired on a Ranger, he had listened and then offered him the job. He had not been disappointed.

"Have a seat," he said as he gestured to the chairs. "I looked over your report and your drawings and I've got to say, I am impressed. You are very observant and quite the artist too."

"Thank you, sir."

"I have something for you." He held out the package. "It's some books to help you identify the plants and trees, but I want you to keep drawing them as well in this," and he handed him another book, an artist sketch book.

"Sir, uh, that's what I was coming to see you about." Lorne felt real bad. As hard as it was to leave this, now his boss was giving him stuff to help him.

The disappointment must have shown on his face because Jensen asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Sir, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to leave. At the end of the war I was injured and… Well I have to go back an' have the doctor check to make sure I'm all right."

"Injured? I take it you don't mean a bullet wound or shrapnel."

"No sir. The Colonel, Lieutenant Colonel said it was psy…"

"Psychological?"

"Yeah. I have to go see a doctor and he has to see if I'm crazy."

Harold laughed. "You're not crazy, son and I don't want to lose you. How be I just give you some time off, you go see your doctor and then come back."

"You could do that? I mean I'd really appreciate it." His world wasn't going to end. He could come back.

"Now, how long you figure? A few days?"

Oh oh. "I don't know. I was going to go to New York with my CO. He didn't think it would be for long."

"Well, it's the off season so I can keep your job open for a time but I would like to keep that inventory going. I'll give you two weeks. If on the off chance you're going to longer than that let me know."

"Yeah. Thanks. I appreciate this cause I really like working here." He stood and shook his boss's hand.

As he turned to leave Harold said, "Don't forget your books."

"Could I leave them here until I come back?"

"Sure," he said with a smile. He picked them up and put them on the top of his filing cabinet. "They'll be right here when you return."

"Thanks." As much as he would have liked to take them and read them he knew he could not take them into the Sanitarium and if he never returned they would be there for the next guy who took his job. That saddened him but he did not let it show. It was real nice of Jensen to give him the time off but he had a bad feeling that he would not be coming back.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Lock up

The trip to New York was uneventful. They stayed for two days then all piled into the car, Lorne in his familiar spot behind the wheel, and headed for the airport. From there they flew to New York City. First stop was to drop Rodney off at Mom's News Stand. She invited them all to supper but they had to get going.

"I'm glad you came Goniff. I appreciate it."

"'Ey, we're mates. That's what mates do," he said with his usual smile. Then he turned serious. "And don't you worry none. You're as sane as the rest of us blokes."

"And that is supposed to comfort him?" put in Actor with mock dignity.

Rodney grinned. "It comforts me."

"Thanks."

Next they dropped off Tony at his home.

"Thanks, Casino, for being there and telling me that it wasn't my fault."

"Yeah well, I'm glad I got it off my chest that it was mine. It's been bothering me."

"It wasn't your fault. It was the Jerry's fault that set it. Warden said you helped dig me out. I owe you my life."

"That was the war. I figure we're about even now." Neither man was comfortable with this sort of talk but they each needed to say it. "Come see me when you get out. You can stay with us until you go back."

"Thanks Casino."

Last stop was Victor's apartment. He was staying temporarily in the apartment of a woman friend who was in England visiting relatives. It was a luxury apartment and came with everything a man could want except for the yappy dog he had to take out twice a day. Victor considered it beneath his dignity to be seen with this mop on a leash so he had hired a young woman to take care of it. When they had come into his apartment he had been surprised when Chief had squatted down and petted the annoying little mutt. It had immediately stopped its incessant barking and had wiggled its pleasure.

"Lorne, I am so very pleased that you are doing so well."

"Thanks to you and Craig. I owe you both; especially on that last mission. Coming back for me and helping me. Thank you."

"You are very welcome." As they turned to leave Victor said, "I will see you soon."

Lorne realized that each in turn was telling him that they believed in him. He would need that for where he was going.

Because the court had ordered his incarceration he was admitted immediately to the New York Prison for the Criminally Insane. The building was set back on manicured grounds with only the back portion of the facility fenced and walled. Inside the entrance was pleasant enough reflecting the building previous purpose, the home of a wealth Railroad owner. Craig had changed into his uniform in hopes of securing better treatment and faster examination and release for his friend and in the beginning it seemed to work. Lorne was ushered away for processing and the Officer was directed to the waiting area. Twenty minutes later he was directed to the Director's Office where he was greeted kindly. It was also where he was informed that there was a mandatory thirty day assessment period and no, the inmate was not allowed visitors.

Craig tried to keep his face neutral but inside he was devastated. Thirty days was a long time. Maybe not compared to a life sentence in prison but there you did, as he had learned, whatever was necessary to survive. Here, Lorne was going to have to remain sane at all times while surrounded with crazy people. He was going to have to remain calm and rational in spite of his surrounding if he hoped to ever get out. Could he do it? Would he ever see him again? Damn.

Down the hall and through the locked doors Lorne was resolute. He could do this. He could do like Actor did and walk into the lion's den and act unafraid. His heart was racing but outwardly he was calm. He was ordered to remove his clothes and put on shapeless pajamas. A dressing gown was provided but there was no tie. Slippers were provided. Next he was ushered by two burly orderlies down another hall, through more locked doors into a hall with closed doors. He was taken to a cell, nudged in and the door closed and locked behind him. The room was smaller than his last one in prison but the fixtures were the same. There was a cot, a sink, a toilet and a tiny window up by the ceiling. All the comforts of… a cell. The air was stale and smelled like urine and disinfectant. He sat on the cot then lay down and put his hands behind his head. A few days of this and then he would be out.

Two days later he got out. A man in white opened the door and gestured for him to come out into the hall.

"Am I going to see the doctor," he asked hopefully.

There was no answer but as he was escorted down the hall he heard yelling and the sounds of a scuffle. He looked back and caught a glimpse of a man being dragged toward his cell. That was all he saw as he was grabbed and shoved through another door. His first reaction was to turn on the orderly but he restrained himself. Act like Actor or Garrison he admonished himself. Down another hall and locked door and he was in a small Ward with six beds, three on each side. His was in the middle of the left side.

"Behave yourself and you'll be allowed privileges. If not then you go back to isolation." With that the man in white turned and left locking the door behind him. The five other men sat or stood looking at him. He stood and looked back assessing the danger. Three men glared at him. One had a fresh scar on his face, the four inch pink line horizontally across his cheek stood out in contrast against his darker features. He had the look of evil about him. The man sitting on the bed beside Lorne's had a sly look on his face. He was short, slender to the point of gaunt with straw colored hair and watery blue eyes. He turned and slid off his bed to stand beside the newest man. His movements were smooth and combined with his look, Lorne dubbed him snake.

Lorne wanted to step back away from the threat but he did not dare. Instead he stepped forward, hands ready. He had to assert himself without provoking him. Isolation was looking better all the time except for his future. The snake brought up his hand and began to reach for Lorne's neck. Calling on his training he brought up his arm to block him nudging his arm away.

"Keep your hands to yourself." He stared him in the eye with his best approximation of Actor's SS General. It worked because the snake backed off. First hurdle passed. The tension remained but there were no more challenges, at least for now. After dark would be another matter. He sat on the bed and waited and watched. It was going to be a long few days.

Later after the tasteless meal, the lights dimmed but did not go out and everyone settled in. There was a lot of rustling and bedspring creaking as they got comfortable. After years in prison and sleeping behind enemy lines Lorne slept lightly so he awakened with every sound. Most were nothing, someone turning over but then he heard the movement beside his bed. He had purposely slept on his back and had the covers un-tucked so he faked turning over but instead slid out of bed on the other side. A quick look at the bed on that side told him the occupant was asleep so he turned to face the intruder. The snake was standing beside his bed. As he watched the snake grinned and climbed back into his own bed.

The days dragged on and still no doctor and no Garrison. There had to be a reason, he would not stay away after telling him that he would visit. Maybe the Army had sent him on a mission. Did Lieutenant Colonels go on missions? Did the Army still have missions? There was nothing to do all day but sit and wonder.

Each day started the same, lights up, breakfast, hours later lunch, hours later dinner then hours before the lights went down again. After the lights came up on the fourth day two orderlies came in and escorted one of the men out. He returned fifteen minutes later, damp and wearing clean clothes. Shower day. He would be glad of the change and the shower.

Lorne had finished his lunch, forcing himself to eat it all to keep up his strength and to not cause trouble. The trays had been removed when the door was opened and an older gentleman wearing a white coat over an expensive three piece suit entered. He was of medium height and obviously dined well and often. His hair was white and on his permanently scowling face he wore round wire rimmed glasses. Lorne wondered if he was the doctor he needed to see. He watched hopefully.

Right behind the Doctor was another man who was as tall as the doctor was not. His lean frame was dressed in an equally expensive suit. His dark eyes scanned the room and Lorne was heartened to see a familiar face.

"These are our most violent offenders. They have been segregated to protect the less aggressive."

"And what treatment do they receive?" asked the cultured voice.

"There is no treatment other than electroshock therapy."

Lorne was unsure what that was but the flicker of something in Victor's eyes meant it was bad.

The visiting Doctor moved into the room and stopped at the end of the first bed. He asked the man his name and where he had lived. He got a snarl so, unperturbed, he turned and stepped toward his friend.

"And how are you feeling?" he asked with a professional demeanor.

"I'm fine, thank you. Are you the doctor I am supposed to see?" He knew that Actor would understand that he was still waiting.

Actor turned and headed for the door as he asked the real doctor, "How often do you do assessments?"

As they stepped through the door Lorne heard the Doctors reply and his heart sank. "The most violent ones are not assessed. There is no treatment so there is no need." He began to get angry to cover the panic. He was stuck here forever? No, he couldn't stay here. He had to get out. The snake had not bothered him since but sooner or later he knew one of them would try. And from the look in Victor's eyes that electroshock stuff was bad. Maybe he had better attack one of the orderlies or another inmate so he could go back to isolation.

No. Garrison knew he was here and now Actor knew. Now Actor knew that he was trapped. They would do something to help him. He would just have to wait.

Victor returned to his apartment, loosened his tie and removed it. He took off his jacket and shoes and headed for the telephone. It took two tries to get to the Lieutenant's Office where he left an urgent message. While waiting he tried to read the newspaper but Lorne's face, screwed up in agony as the electric current was applied to his skull, kept appearing. They had to do something to get him out of there before that happened. He paced.

Finally the phone rang hours later.

"I went to see Lorne."

"I was told he wasn't allowed visitors." There was a tiny pause. "You didn't," he said with disgust.

"Visiting Doctors are often given tours as a professional curtsy."

"You said no more cons, Victor." He sounded angry and disappointed.

"Warden, he is slated for electroshock therapy."

That got Garrison's attention. "What?!" he exclaimed in horror. "But there's nothing wrong with him. He was supposed to be assessed."

"Yes. He has been put in with the most violent patients. I was told there is no treatment, no cure, no need to assess."

They spoke in unison. "We have to get him out of there."

Garrison went up the chain of command but was told this is a civilian matter. He tried to push the fact that he had been doing a soldiers work to no avail. The Army did not want to get involved in a civilian matter. A civilian court had put out the order, it was up to the court to rescind it or change it. A very frustrated Lieutenant Colonel returned to his office. What could he do? Could he ask the others to give up their chance at clemency for Chief? They would, he was sure of that but could he ask them? No. There had to be another way.

Victor was not constrained by military law or military thinking. He immediately went to his friends. Goniff was horrified and Casino was livid. No one was going to do that to their friend.

"We got him out of one of those places before. We can do it again."

"If we do then he is on the run for the rest of his life."

"Maybe so but at least his brains won't be scrambled."

"And so will you."

"That doesn't matter," said Casino all ready for action. "He'd do it for us."

"Why don't you 'ave a word with that quack," suggested Rodney.

"That was my thinking but I wanted to consult with you two first. If I fail to convince him we may have to do something a little more drastic."

Tony smacked his fist into his hand and said, "I can do drastic."

"Casino," warned Actor. "Chief would not like you to give up your parole for him. You know how badly he would feel if you got him out only to end up in prison."

"You're right. I'd do it for him but yeah, he'd probably get himself killed trying to get me out."

"If you try to con the doctor you're going back on your word to the Warden. If we all go and talk to the doc maybe we can convince him that 'e's not insane. If that fails then the Warden can't say we didn't try it 'is way. Then we do it our way. Or we 'ire someone to do it." That earned him two looks of approval.

"I have the Doctor's name, next we need his home address."

"We talk to him at his home? Why not get him to come for a drink or something. Maybe get him drunk and take incriminating pictures. Blackmail might work," suggested Casino.

"It is also illegal."

"There is another problem," started Rodney. "That Doctor thinks you're some hotshot doctor."

"Yes, that could lead to a credibility issue. The two of you will have to convince him."

Both looked doubtful. The best debater was Victor. "What about…?" said Goniff as he thought out his idea. "The Doctor knows you as a follow doctor. What if you invited 'im out to dinner or a drink an' we just 'appen to be near and we come over and ask 'im about our friend. Then you can plead our case."

Victor knew a good con when he heard it and this one just might work. "Do we invite Craig in on this?"

"He'll be pissed-off when he finds out you conned the Doctor," said Tony.

"He knows."

"'E does? 'Ow'd 'e find out?"

"I told him and yes he was 'pissed-off'."

"If he knows then I say we include him. He can vouch for his sanity. I also say call that Ranger that Lorne worked for and see if he'll add his two cents. If we had time I'd say get him up here."

"That's good, Casino. I will make the call then I will let Craig know."

The meet went as planned. Doctor Fredrick Renaldi agreed to meet Professor Raimondo Este Veneziano for drinks at a popular restaurant. The talk started with their common ancestry. Though he had come to this country when he was a boy the good doctor still had relatives in the old country. Gradually the con man swung the talk to the patients in the hospital.

"I was intrigued by the young patient in the violent ward. I have not experienced one with the manners and obvious good breeding as exhibited by that one. Has he been there long?"

"There are so many patients. The violent ones are hopeless so I concentrate on the ones that can be helped. By giving them jobs to do, things to occupy their time I have been able to train them for menial jobs around the institution. I was fortunate enough to have a friend, a trained chef, come and teach several of the inmates to prepare a decent menu. You must come to dinner before you go."

"You are most fortunate. We have nothing like that on staff at the University but there are many fine restaurants in Bern." He casually rubbed his forehead and waited.

"Doctor Renaldi?" A young well-dressed man approached the table. "I'm sorry to bother you but I was hoping for news of my brother." While chatting with a college outside the institution the scowl had eased. It had returned.

"Call the Institution and make an appointment," was his curt reply.

"Please. All I want to know is if he's all right. I was told he can't have visitors. He's not a bad person. He was upset. That's all. He's not violent. Please, just talk to him. You'll see." The dark haired man was pleading.

"Won't you sit down," said the professor. He could see the resulting anger on the doctor's face.

The stranger took a quick look back to his table. "I can't stay. I'm with friends. We were talking about our friend when I spotted the Doctor."

"And you say you knew him before he was committed?"

"Yes. We worked together. He was a good friend. We're afraid for him."

The Professor looked pensive then turned to the Doctor. "You know, this sounds like an excellent opportunity for a research paper. The history, the build-up, the cause and effect. I am intrigued." He turned back to their interrupter. "Could I meet with you and your friends tomorrow some time? I would like to hear more about your friend."

"I'd really appreciate your help, we all would but the Lieutenant Colonel has to return to West Point first thing in the morning."

Both professionals looked over and noticed that one man was in uniform. "Your brother," started the con man, "Is he a soldier?"

"No sir, but he served in the war. He fought with the rest of us."

"What is the popular term? Battle fatigue? Is that what he is suffering from?" From the civilian he turned to look to the Doctor. "I thought this was a facility for criminals?" Getting no reply he continued. "I want to look into this. If it is Battle Fatigue then this could be ground breaking work. Between the two of us we could be famous. What do you say we go over and get some history for this individual?" He saw the Doctor debating. He did not look convinced so he stood. "Join me in making history?" The rest of Lorne's life hinged on this decision.

All breathed a sigh of relief when the good doctor stood but then their hopes were dashed when he spoke. "I have too much to do to be bothered with this nonsense." He gathered his coat and left. Panic. Helplessness.

"Doctor Renaldi," called out the SS Field Marshal. All eyes turned to the retreating man. "As a Doctor, considered to be the top of his field, is this the way you treat your patients? By turning your back on them? Do you wish your colleagues to learn of this?"

The Doctor stopped and turned, he face dark red with anger. "This will not help him."

"You do not know that. You have not even tried. You do not even know which patient you are referring to so how can you say that?"

"This is not the place to discuss my patients."

If he hoped that would end it he was disappointed and it showed when all the patient's friends stood. The Officer in full dress uniform said, "Your home or your office?" Standing military straight, flanked by the others, he glared unblinking at the object of their wrath.

The five men convened in the Doctor office where they discussed Garrison's Gorillas missing member. The doctor was skeptical. He said it was too late to put in the call to Yosemite but Actor explained the time difference and fortunately Supervisor Jensen had kept his word and had remained by the phone. He talked to the Doctor and explained the duties of his Rangers and the job performance of the man in question. He also asked point blank when he could have his most valuable employee back because the Governor of California who had suggested the survey of the Park was waiting for the next batch of results. Maybe he could give him the Doctor's name.

Knowing he had lost Renaldi agreed that he would talk to the patient in the morning.

"We are concerned about his safety. He was trained in hand to hand combat during the war. If he is attacked he will have no option but to defend himself. I don't want him or anyone else hurt. Please give the order to have him moved to a safer place."

"I will see him first thing in the morning."

"That might be too late. Please. I would prefer to take him with us but am willing to leave him here if I know he is safe."

"There is only the night staff here. We don't do patient transfers at night."

"He will give you no trouble," said the officer earnestly. "Just tell him that the Warden says to behave himself." He would not have thought the scowl could get any worse but it did. In an effort to prevent a serious facial injury Garrison smiled and said, "Nick name. He'll understand."

"If you wish I will accompany you," suggested the con man.

Again they hoped as he acquiesced and stood. Actor joined him and they left.

Had Garrison known? There was no way he could have but fortune had smiled on the young Indian. When the two men looked into the room housing the six men they were shocked to see one man in the corner being pummelled by two others. Fortunately they were getting in each other's way or the trapped man would have been severely injured. Victor rushed into the fray yanking first one man back and then the other. The scarred man resisted, deciding that the tall interloper was fair game but Victor's training allowed him to land punishing blows and he was quickly subdued.

The man in the corner slid to the floor as Victor approached. "I didn't hurt'm. I swear, I didn't hurt'm."

"I know you didn't. You're safe now. Are you injured?"

His face was bloody but all he said was, "I didn't. Get me outta here, please."

Victor extended his hand and the injured man took it. With assistance he got stiffly to his feet and they left the room. The Doctor remained mute as he locked the door behind them and picked up the phone. Victor and Lorne made their way down the hall to the next locked door where they would have to wait.

Craig, Tony and Rodney waited. They knew the place was big but would it take this long to take a patient from one room to another? Had something happened? All eyes turned to the door when it opened.

"You were right to be concerned said the professor. He was being attacked but…" he held up his hands to stop the flood of concern. "He is in the Medical Center and the Doctor is seeing to him. Facial cuts and bruising but he should be all right come morning.

Later they would castigate the Psychiatrist but at that moment they were just glad that their friend was safe and going to be all right.

The Doctor had felt angered at the way these men had cornered and shamed him. He did not like people coercing him into doing other than what he wanted. He was used to doing the coercing himself. In spite of all that, it seemed that they had been right. They had said he was trained in hand-to-hand yet he was the only one injured. The patient's only concern had been that his rescuers knew that he had not hurt anyone. His case had to be checked closer, after they all had a good night sleep.

The next morning Craig, Tony, Victor and Rodney were up early. The Doctor had promised to call after he had a talk with their friend and they all wanted to know his decision. The wait was interminable but finally the phone rang. Three pairs of eyes watched anxiously as their leader spoke and then listened. His face gave no clue to the verdict.

Finally the call ended and they held their breath.

"He's to be released today." If he had had anything more to say no one would have heard it over the whoops and hollers that followed the announcement.

When the noise abated the only question was, "What time?"

The drive to the Sanitarium was rushed. Craig had to tell Tony to slow down several times even though he was just as anxious. When they arrived they were shown into the waiting room. Ten minutes later a slightly bruised man appeared. His one eye was starting to darken and his top lip was thickening but he was smiling although it might have been termed a grimace.

"My God, Chief," breathed Victor.

"Just get me outta here before he changes his mind. You gotta be insane to stay here."

Rodney caught it immediately and laughed. "Insane! Yeah." There was a short pause and then the others caught on. They all laughed as Lorne headed for the door.

Garrison's Gorillas were together again. They had survived the war and its aftermath. Together they continue to help each other.


End file.
